Shattered Image
by TheDreamyOne
Summary: A weekend evaluation reveals a haunted past that left several lives shattered.
1. Chapter One

Title:                Shattered Image

Author:            The Dreamy One

Feedback:            sdjolly@bellsouth.net

Type:               Action/Adventure/Romance

Rating:            R (Some Violence and Sexual Situations)

Summary:            A weekend evaluation reveals a haunted past that left several lives shattered.  

Disclaimer:            UC:Undercover and its characters belong to Shane Salerno, NBC, et al.  All original characters are the creation of the author.  No infringements intended.  

~*~

"We're going _where_?" Cody questioned loudly, tossing the folder containing their orders onto the table.  

Donovan issued him a formidable look causing the gangly agent to quickly retrieve his orders.  "The final destination is classified."

"What's this all about Donovan?" Alex asked, flipping through the few pages the file held.  Her ice blue eyes locked onto his stern brown eyes.  She read immediately that no answers would be forthcoming.  If they weren't inside the file, they would not get them from him.

"It's about survival, Cross.  Plain and simple," he supplied enigmatically.  His hand went reflexively to his hair, his fingers sliding through it and then massaging the nape of his neck.  He was just as irritated as they were, but orders were orders.  From time to time every agent was required to show they still had what it took to be a government agent, especially those sent to special operations.  His team was no exception.

"We survive every day," Jake complained.  "This seems a bit redundant."

Donovan shook his head.  The only silent one in the bunch was Monica.  He watched as she studied the assignment without uttering one single sound.  In his estimation, this endeavor would be most difficult on her and yet she took it in, processed it, and set it aside until the necessary time for reaction.  He just hoped for her sake, it was a level headed one.

He looked over his team.  Cody Forrester – computer hacker extraordinaire; his goofy sense of humor matched his nerdy looks.  Alex Cross – her beautiful doe eyes belied the dangerous activities she was capable of performing.  Jake Shaw – Hispanic tough kid from the streets summed him up quite well.  Although he was learning, he still had a long way to go.  Monica Davis – intelligent, African-American woman from the wrong side of the tracks.  People were an open book to her; she could read them so well.  She was a strong asset to his team.  They all were. 

Each of his team contributed in a way that all bases were covered exceptionally well.  He would settle for no less.  If any one of them had not measured up to his standard, he would not have hesitated in having them replaced.  

This weekend had been planned to test their ability to work as a team as well as their survival instincts.  Not just theirs, but his.  He would be taking them out of their element and into situations that, although monitored, would still likely be dangerous.  

"We'll be flying out of Midway for Florida Thursday morning.  Friday morning we will be transported to an undisclosed site where the exercise will commence," Donovan informed them.  He gave them one last look before turning toward his office.  "You have the remainder of this week off, people."

"So, there's nothing you can tell us?" Jake asked expectantly.  "No intel as to what we can expect upon arrival?"

Donovan shook his head as he made his way up the stairs.  "None," he lied.  There was plenty he could tell them, but he was under orders not to disclose any information he had from previous exercises.  He had been through many over the years, whether it be CIA or FBI training.  One thing he could tell them, it was no picnic.

"Donovan," Alex called to his retreating back.

"See you Thursday morning," he answered coldly, closing his office door behind him.

~*~

The flight was uneventful and the team was diverted from the jetway to a side stairwell that took them from the terminal directly to the ground where a military vehicle awaited them.  As soon as they stepped through the terminal's doorway, the thick, heavy Florida heat and humidity hit them like a brick wall.  Every lungful of air was a battle all its own.  

The silence in the vehicle was deafening.  Donovan knew each of his team wanted to ply him with questions.  They were going into a situation blind, something no agent welcomed.  He imagined the nauseating fear of the unknown that undoubtedly started to build in the pit of their stomachs.  It was a feeling he was well acquainted with, yet he was compelled not to allay their worries.

When they finally reached their destination, they were taken to the military base's command headquarters.  They were met by commanding officer Captain Benjamin Wainwright.  

Wainwright rose from his comfy executive chair and rounded his desk to greet his visitors.  He knew the lead agent immediately, having gone over each of the new arrival's profiles.  "Agent Donovan," he greeted, extending a hand.  "If you and your people will come this way," he insisted, motioning back toward the door they had just entered.

Donovan shook Wainwright's hand firmly.  The 6'0", slightly bald, Base Commander looked intimidating his dress uniform, and Donovan assumed he had worn it just to impress his government visitors.  These sorts of exercises were probably not new to the commander, but as they say "one must dress to impress".  By the look on Cody's face alone, Donovan would say that Wainwright had succeeded.  

Donovan and his team followed solemnly behind Wainwright.  They entered a small conference room just a few feet away from the commander's office.  He had prepared himself for this meeting and yet as soon as his eyes beheld the two well-dressed occupants of the room, he felt his breath catch in his throat.  How long had it been since he had seen them last?  Four, five years?  His mind screamed to release long forgotten memories, but he struggled inwardly to block them from resurfacing.  _No, not now.  Not ever.  I will do this.  I will get through this.  And then, I will never think of it again._

He strode purposefully into the room and indicated his team should be seated at the conference table.  He felt all their eyes upon him, boring holes into various parts of his body while he stood at the front of the room with his back to them.  Especially the two people who had occupied the room before he and his team entered.  Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face them.  

5'11, Samuel Adair, CIA agent and undercover operative, glared unwaveringly at Donovan.  The color of his hate filled eyes nearly matched his dark skin.  Donovan took in the sight of his shaven head.  Sam always had liked to keep his hair short, and Donovan nearly laughed out loud in amusement.  Sam now wore it as short as it could be – bald.

A throat clearing from the end of the table drew his eyes in that direction.  Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a severe twist.  He blinked quickly thinking it looked almost painful.  Her piercing green eyes stared intently into his and he saw that familiar accusatory glint in them.  _Still harbor that resentment, Quinn?_  He sighed inwardly as he watched her cross her long, shapely legs and fold her arms over her chest.  Quinn Ronan Doyle possessed every ounce of fire her hair and ancestry indicated.  She was also one hell of an intelligence officer for the CIA.     

"Agent Donovan," Wainwright spoke, obviously interrupting the lead agent's thoughts.  "If you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.  When you are finished here, my assistant will show you to the empty barracks located in bachelor's quarters.  Until oh-five hundred tomorrow."

Donovan nodded.  Once the commander had exited the room, he focused on introducing the players to one another.  "Let's get this party started, shall we?" he began, standing directly behind Alex.  He looked slowly from Sam to Quinn.  "Agents Shaw, Cross, Davis and Forrester...meet CIA operatives Agents Adair and Doyle."

He ran his fingers over his mouth before stroking the hair on his chin.  He wasn't all that surprised when the reaction between the two sides of the table was one of silence.  Sadly, they would have to lose that apprehension if they were to make it through the weekend.  

The real objective of the weekend was to see if two factions of the government could work together for one common goal – survival.  They had no mission other than to survive, and working together would be their only way of achieving it.  His mission, on the other hand, was to evaluate the two CIA agents; to gauge their mental stability and their response to accepting orders from someone they held little regard for.

He sighed inwardly.  As much as he hated it, his history with the two CIA agents was well documented in his file as well as theirs.  If the higher-ups were looking for someone to command them that they would love to see dead, he was their man.  

"This party's a little dull, Agent Donovan," Quinn smarted off soundly.  "I think you might get down to it, so we can all go about our merry little ways.  I, for one, am starving...and being this close to the ocean?"  She uncrossed her arms and legs and leaned forward, placing an elbow on the table.  "I've got a thong bikini just screaming to be strapped on."

Donovan closed his eyes momentarily at the image of her in a bikini.  He did not need her deliberate distraction.  Goddamn him, but he was still attracted to her after all these years; and even after she had hurled such insulting accusations his way.  She thought he was lower than pond scum, but he knew her mindset at the time and considered her attitude understandable.   

To him, the saddest thing was that their relationship had been developing into something that could have been amazing if it had been given the chance.    For six months they had worked closely together, guarding their developing feelings.  The reason behind his actions was to save the disruption that a romantic involvement could cause while planning and carrying out a mission.  He had assumed her reasons were the same.  Neither of them had voiced their interest in the other, but it wasn't difficult to detect.    

Things had soured quickly between them when all hell broke loose during that ill-fated mission.  He had hoped both Quinn and Sam would look past their personal feelings and see the truth, but that was not to be the case.  The outsider was blamed and rejected.  The two of them turned toward each other, pushing away the rest of the world and allowing their distrust of others to grow with each passing day.

"I seriously doubt you will have time for sunbathing," Donovan snapped harshly.  "However, you will have plenty of time in the sun over the weekend."  He moved around Alex and placed the palms of his hands on the table, leaning toward Quinn menacingly.  "You may want to stock up on sunscreen for that lilywhite complexion of yours.  Wouldn't want you coming down with a bad case of sun poisoning, now would we?"

Quinn glowered as she sat back in her chair.  _Still the arrogant bastard, aren't you, Donovan?_  "Whatever you say, _Commander_."  

She still could not believe her superiors were subjecting her to this; or Sam, for that matter.  Negative reports had trickled down that the two longtime partners were becoming more difficult to work with as the years passed.  Sure, they were obstinate, but with just cause.  Strangers who would swoop in on a case and demand unconditional loyalty chapped their hides immediately.  They had done that once – had put their faith in a relative stranger because his _manner_ demanded their allegiance.  And for that one time, they had paid dearly.  Never again would they just trust in an agent or commander because he or she outranked them.  That was a rookie mistake they would never make again.

Donovan moved back, releasing an irritated sigh.  He took a moment to regain his composure before continuing.  "I suggest you all pack your sunscreen.  And, yes...I am Lead this weekend.  You will follow my orders and none other."  

He leaned his tall frame against the wall, appearing on the outside as though he had not a care in the world.  Inside was another matter all together.  He struggled to keep his thoughts under control.  He could not afford to let the past resurface and cause him problems over the weekend.  All his thoughts needed to stay focused on the present and the task at hand.  

"Any other orders, Sir?" Sam asked sarcastically.  

"Rest up tonight, you'll need it," he warned.  "When we get to the barracks, you'll each be issued a backpack.  Bring along only what you need.  Remember, you carry your own load...no one's going to do it for you."

Monica scanned the group with a watchful eye.  As much as the team was apprehensive, the two CIA agents were enraged.  Was that the word she was looking for?  It suited the looks in their eyes.  Both of them stared Donovan down as though he were a lowly dog in need of taking to the pound; or worse.  Putting him down may have been more to their liking.  In any case, Monica found herself on guard with these people from the get go.  Once alone, she would warn the team to keep their eyes open.  Someone had to watch Donovan's back.

"What're you staring at?" Sam spat, glaring at Monica.

"Not much," she retorted bitingly.  

"Monica's my team's profiler.  She's doing her job," Donovan informed them.  "Alex and Jake do ninety percent of the undercover work.  Cody handles computers and security."

Quinn's eyes locked with Donovan's suddenly.  "And what do you do?  Stand idly by while they risk their necks?"

Jake, Alex, and Cody, each rose from their chair in protest.  "Back off, Red," Alex growled.  

"Yeah," Cody added.

Quinn's brow rose in amusement.  He had his dogs well trained to protect him.  "Such witty repartee," she snapped, glancing at Cody.  "So, they're loyal to you, _Commander_.  I suppose that says something for you.  Or maybe you've just become a better actor over the years."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," Jake demanded.  His gaze roamed from Quinn and Sam to Donovan and back again.

Quinn shrugged as she rose from her chair.  "Ask His Highness over there."  She smiled sweetly as she rounded the table and neared Donovan.  Stopping directly in front of him, she added, "I think it would make a _lovely_ bedtime story, don't you, _Commander_?"  

Donovan glared down at her.  At that moment he could cheerfully choke the life from her.  He opened his mouth to respond, but she brushed past him and headed for the door.

"What's with this _Commander_, shit?" Alex asked, exasperated.  "What's going on here?"

Sam rose from his chair at that point.  "Nothing.  Best to let sleeping dogs lie."

Monica nodded at his levelheaded response.  If only his partner could keep her trap shut.  "Sometimes that is for the best."

"Sooner or later, that dog wakes up," Quinn snapped, her hand resting on the doorknob.  "And let me tell you, that dog is a _bitch_."

"Quinn!" Donovan bellowed harshly.  He noted that she jumped just a bit.  Skittish?  Were her nerves getting the best of her?  He had to wonder just how she had fared over these past years.  

"What?!" she responded just as roughly.

"We haven't gone over..."

Quinn sighed and her shoulders sagged slightly, but she did not turn to face him.  "I know the drill, Donovan.  Early to bed, early to rise.  Stick us in the middle of nowhere without a thing to survive on and tell us to find the needle in the haystack."  She turned her head slowly to face him.  "And pray that nature doesn't come calling."

Donovan shook his head and stood up away from the wall.  "Something like that."

She turned the knob and opened the door.  "Fine.  Let's go find our home away from home for the night so I can go eat already."

Cody couldn't help but laugh just a little.  His stomach was growling loudly and food was just about the only thing on his mind.  Sure, he noticed the obvious tension between his boss and the two CIA agents, but food first...old grievances second.  "Food sounds good to me, too."

"Goody, a date," Quinn quipped sarcastically, starting down the hallway to find the Commanding Officer's assistant.  "My dream come true."

Cody rolled his eyes as the group followed behind her.  "Has she always been such a..."

"Yes, she has," Sam answered, moving around them to catch up to Quinn.  "You okay?" he asked once along side her.

"Sure...just peachy," she lied.  "And hey, who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and something large and nasty will swallow him whole this weekend."

"Quinn..."

"I'm sorry, Sam.  Maybe I'm not as forgiving as you..."

"Forgiving?  I want to see the guy strung up by his short hairs more than anyone, but..."

"But you don't wish him dead?" she asked, her eyes demanding an honest response.

"Sometimes..." he admitted.

"So do I."

~*~

To be continued…


	2. Chapter Two

~*~

At dinner, Donovan tried to join the two groups at one table, but Sam and Quinn declined, asking the hostess for a separate table away from them.  Donovan did not argue.  He was sure his team would have questions he would have to answer, although he was going to try his damnedest not to.

Cody nodded in the direction of the CIA Agents' table.  "What's the story with them, Boss?" He inquired curiously.  "Can I just be the first to say that they really creep me out?"

Donovan smiled wryly and shook his head.  "Cody, you certainly have a way about you."

Cody shrugged.  "What can I say?  I call 'em as I see 'em."

Leaning forward, Monica said, "And I believe you called this one right, Cody."

Donovan raised a brow, assessing his profiler.  "What do you mean, Monica?"

"I mean, don't turn your back on these two, Donovan.  I don't trust them," she replied honestly.

He sat back in his chair, his eyes wandering over to Quinn.  She had been watching him but turned away quickly.   There had been a time when she and Sam had actually _liked_ him, but that was all shot to hell when it came time to make one hard decision.  He had hoped time would help them to realize that he did what was necessary, and what was best for the team.  It was more than apparent to him that time does not necessarily heal all wounds.

Quinn quickly tore her eyes away from Donovan and focused her attention on the ocean that lay just outside the window she was sitting by.  The waves crashing against the sandy beach reminded her of the memories of that horrible night that continued to beat against her conscious, as well as subconscious, mind.  For five years she had hated him from a distance and now she was forced to work with him again.  She felt the rage boiling in the pit of her stomach.  The pain felt like acid burning through metal.  _Just wait, you arrogant prick.  I'll pay you back..._

"I think you're over reacting, Monica," he replied, turning his attention back to his team.  "The issue between us is in the past and will remain there.  They are professionals above all else."  At the skeptical look he received from each of them, he added, "It will all work out; there's nothing to worry about."

"We'll see," Alex scoffed, cracking open a crab leg and dipping it in drawn butter.  "There was a lot of animosity in that conference room and I don't think it's going away any time soon."  She popped the piece of meat into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.  "It might help to know what their issue is."

Donovan frowned and shook his head.  "I'm sure you're all beyond curious, but this is something that cannot be discussed.  Don't ask it of me," he insisted coldly.  The sullen looks on each of their faces told him he did not need to worry about them pressing the situation; at least for now.

 __

The group spent the remainder of the meal asking pertinent questions about the coming weekend excursion.  Donovan instructed them they would be issued combat fatigues, boots, and all necessary gear.  Weapons would be strictly forbidden, save the bowie knife each of them would obtain.  They would each be issued one day's worth of rations and two canteens of drinking water.  Any other sustenance would have to be gathered or hunted by them.  

"Uh...hunt?" Monica asked apprehensively.

"Don't worry, Mon...us men'll do the huntin'," Cody quipped in what appeared to be some backwoods Texas drawl.  "You wimmens can do the cookin'!"

Alex reached over and slapped Cody upside the head.  

"Ow!" he cried loudly, rubbing his ear while Jake and Monica laughed mercilessly.

"Gee, Sam...look, we're missing all the fun at the kiddie table," Quinn droned sarcastically.

Donovan's eyes narrowed to mere slits.  No matter what their history, he was not about to take on the attitude that he could or would be pushed around.  "Stow it, Quinn.  They're just letting off a little steam.  Something everyone needs to do from time to time."  He stood, tossing down enough cash to cover the bill as well as the tip.  "If you're finished, I suggest we head back to the barracks and turn in for the night."

Quinn shrugged.  "I would think so, since we have to get up before the butt-crack of dawn."

"Always the eloquent one, Quinn," Donovan retorted with an even tone.  "Let's go."

~*~

Sighing heavily, he rolled over onto his side on the less than comfortable government issued cot.  He wasn't sure why he was unable to sleep.  He would pay hell for it come 5a.m. when they were to leave for the large section of clustered marshland islands located on the north Florida east coast.  He sat up and leaned back against the cool wall.  His eyes wandered the dark barracks, taking in the sight of the six other occupied bunks and settled on the two furthest from him.

_"How could you?!" she growled harshly in a low, although hysterical, whisper when the all-clear sign was given.  She lunged for him, striking him square on the chin with her balled up fist._

_He grunted as the pain shot through his jaw.  "Damn it, Quinn...don't make this harder than it has to be!"_

_Sam approached him from the rear.  "I'm going back."_

_"The hell you are," Donovan spun around, holding his gun threateningly.  "You make one move to head in that direction and I'll put a bullet in your brain."_

_"Fucking coward," Quinn spat hatefully.  "What's to stop us from turning on you?"_

_Without turning to look at her, he snaked his arm backwards, wrapping his long fingers easily around her throat.  She gasped with the effort to breathe as he squeezed harder and harder until she nearly passed out.  "Try it...just try it."_

_Quinn gasped for air as she clawed at his hand.  "We can't leave…"_

_As Sam stared down the barrel of his gun, Donovan knew he was tempted to jump him in order to stop the punishment that was being inflicted on Quinn.  **Friends to the end, eh, Sam?**  It didn't surprise Donovan one bit.  The two agents had gone through the academy together and had worked together ever since.  They were fiercely loyal to each other and Donovan was not foolish enough to think they wouldn't turn on him.  Given the chance, they'd gut him alive._

_He released Quinn just as suddenly as he had grabbed her.  "I won't risk three people's lives in a no-win situation," he explained harshly.    _

_After she regained some composure, and air in her lungs, she bared her teeth long enough to snarl, "You're a monster, Donovan.  Until the day you die, remember that.  Each and every time you look in the mirror, you'll see your true ugliness; and know how much you repulse me." _

He broke from the memory with the word 'monster' echoing in his brain.  How many times over the course of the years did that thought come back to haunt him?  He'd lost track long ago.  Sleepless nights or fevered nightmares reminded him when his conscious mind wouldn't allow it.  Many times he could hear Quinn's disembodied voice accusing him, damning him.  He would live with that, and many other horrors he'd been a part of, for the rest of his life.

~*~

Roused from sleep at four a.m., Donovan had his hands full with a group of easily irritated government agents.  Shower and bathroom privileges were rotated quickly between the two genders and soon they were ready to head out for their date with destiny.  

As they made their way to the transport vehicle awaiting them, Donovan gave them a good once over.  Each was dressed in camouflaged BDU's and calf-high jungle boots, sporting lightweight backpacks that contained a limited amount of belongings, first aid kit, and one day's worth of rations.  Rolled up and fastened to the base of each pack was a sleeping bag.  A canteen filled with drinking water was fixed to either side of the pack and easily reachable by the wearer.  Donovan had checked each of them before leaving to guarantee that the only weapon they carried was the bowie knife sheathed at their hip.  All was at the ready.

They were directed to the back of the transport, sitting on the hard bench fixed to each side of the vehicle.  Donovan was amazed by the silence in the vehicle.  Perhaps they were all not quite awake yet, but he was sure it stemmed more from his team's distrust of the two outsiders.  He knew what Sam and Quinn's problem was.

He checked his watch, noting the minutes that ticked by as the truck drove on.  He felt as though he was being watched and when he lifted his head, he locked onto a pair of deep green eyes.  

Quinn studied him openly, unashamed of her brazenness.  She had not discussed it with Sam, but she knew instinctively that Donovan was going to be the ultimate cause of splitting them up.  Perhaps he would even recommend that they be handed their walking papers altogether.  Edgy, arrogant, insubordinate at times, they had essentially dug their own graves.  Donovan was merely about to cover the casket.  She knew it and she figured Sam probably did as well.  

"Up for this?" Donovan asked her suddenly after several moments of her staring at him.

"Don't have a choice, do I?" she asked pointedly.  She knew Donovan was astute enough to grasp her real meaning.

"None of us do," he replied, nodding slightly.  "I wish it could be different."

"Not half as much as I do, Commander," she returned coldly.  "Could be a lot of things would be different if..." she trailed off suddenly, turning away from his intense gaze.  She wouldn't go there, wouldn't soften on him.  She had trusted him; _they_ had trusted him and he betrayed them.  He would pay, she had made that oath one night nearly five years prior, and she would damn well see it come full circle.

~*~

To be continued…


	3. Chapter Three

~*~

"Agent Donovan," the driver called as he exited the cab of the truck.  "Do you have everything you need?" he asked, handing a folded map to Donovan.

"Yes, everything is in order," he replied, checking the item he was handed.  It was a topographical map of the area.  He thought it rather amusing that they would think he had not obtained one already.  

Pointing in the general area, the driver continued.  "Should only take you a good day's hike through the marsh to reach Sanctuary, barring any complications.  You are scheduled for pickup on Sunday at thirteen hundred hours."

"Understood," he acknowledged and waiting patiently as the driver climbed back into the vehicle and drove off leaving them stranded at the outskirts of the deserted marshes.

"So, what's the game plan, Donovan," Jake asked curiously as he moved up alongside him.

Donovan nodded.  "We head north for a few miles.  We'll run into a creek we'll need to find a way across.  That will be our biggest obstacle."  Without waiting for any replies, he began walking in the direction he had nodded in.

The group trailed behind Donovan in twos – Jake and Alex, Monica and Cody, with Sam and Quinn bringing up the rear.  The morning was already a balmy sixty-seven degrees and the sun was just coming up.  As it made more of an appearance, the temperature began to rise.  Within an hour, it was up to eighty-five degrees.  Hot, humid and sticky.  He smiled to himself, listening to the canteens open and close repeatedly behind him.  If they thought this was hot, they were in for a one hell of a wake up call.

"Preserve that water as long as you can," Donovan called over his shoulder.  "It's your most precious commodity.  The day is only going to get hotter, people, and I can't promise more drinking water will be available once we reach Sanctuary."  He heard selective hiss and moans, but no one responded otherwise. 

Nearly an hour into the hike, moving over the moist, damp ground, he heard Alex cursing and a loud slap resounded in the air.  

"Damn, these mosquitoes are friggin' horses!" she exclaimed irritably, swatting at another that landed on her arm.

Donovan paused as he dug into one of the side pockets of his pants.  "Here, use this.  Sunblock with insect repellant," he informed her as he tossed the container to Alex.  He glanced around the group casually, taking in the sight of Cody's already reddened cheeks.  "I suggest those of you who did not think to put on sunblock this morning use it."  

Alex thanked him as she applied a slathering to her exposed skin.  "Here, Cody.  Your turn," she stated, handing the sunblock over to him.

Quinn smiled smugly as she folded her arms over her chest as his eyes sought her out.  With her skin tone, she knew better than to go out into the sun for long periods of time without it.  But as she was bitten for the umpteenth time by a mammoth mosquito, she scowled at him and held her hand out to Cody as he finished using it.  "I didn't bring insect repellant," she explained irritably.

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, Red," Cody replied, laughing.  

"Shut up, geek," she snapped.  

"Both of you shut up, and let's get going," Donovan barked as he walked off.  He glanced back noting the stop had changed walking partners slightly.  Jake was still paired with Alex, but Monica had fallen back to Sam's side, leaving Cody stuck with Quinn.  

Donovan stopped as he reached the obstacle of the creek.  The hike to that point had been relatively easy, their only nemeses being the heat and the sun.  The low growth they clomped through more than likely housed many creatures lurking within it, however, none had presented themselves.  He scanned the water looking for a place to cross.  The creek was extremely slow moving and, in some areas so stationary, algae had formed on the surface.  It was hard telling what lie beneath the surface, or how deep the water was.

He turned and faced the group.  "We're splitting up.  Jake, you take Sam, Alex and Monica and head north no more than a mile.  See if you can find an area shallow enough to cross without much trouble."  He unfastened his backpack and set it down on the ground, opening the side pockets.  He withdrew two handheld radios and gave one to Jake.  "Contact me if you find anything."

Jake took the radio and gave Donovan an odd look.  "Thought you said we were only to survive on what they gave us?"

Donovan raised an amused brow.  "Contrary to popular belief, I don't always follow rules."

"I believe it," Sam snarled under his breath as he headed off without waiting for Jake.

Quinn didn't hesitate, nor did she pay Donovan any mind as she followed Sam.  

"Doyle, you're with me," Donovan called after her.  

"Chya...riiiight," Quinn came back at him without turning.  

In a few quick strides she was within his reach.  He grabbed hold of one of the backpack's shoulder straps and brought her to a halt.  He spun her around to face him.  "You're where _I_ say, and no where else."  

His face was inches from hers and she read the lethal look in his eye clearly.  'Defy me and pay the consequences.'  She had faced that authoritative gaze once before and had not had the guts to defy him then.  Squaring her shoulders, she knocked his hand from her body and moved past him to join Cody.  Somewhere, somehow while on this little adventure, she would find a way for a little payback.  

Donovan watched as she lifted her chin in defiance, turned, and strode off with Cody close on her heels.  She had pulled her hair up on top of her head and fastened it with a rubber band before braiding the length of her hair and securing the end with a second band.  He held back an amused chuckle that formed from watching her stomp off, the braid bouncing angrily behind her.  What had him so amused was the song that leapt into his mind as he watched her 'tail' bouncing around --  "Tigger's Song" from Winnie the Pooh.  _The wonderful thing about tiggers, is tiggers are wonderful things, their tops are made out of rubber, their bottoms are made out of springs, they're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, POUNCY,  
Fun! Fun! Fun! Fun! Fun! _  He shook his head, hiding the grin that graced his mouth with a hand, and took off after them.  

~*~

Donovan, Cody, and Quinn walked along the water's edge for thirty minutes before Jake's voice was heard over the radio.  "Think we found a way across, Donovan!"

Donovan pressed the button on the small radio.  "Okay, Jake.  We're on our way."  He called out to Cody and Quinn.  "Jake's found a way across, we're heading back in his direction."

Quinn turned on her heel, nearly causing Cody to crash into her.  "Sorry," he stammered, moving aside.

"S'ok," she said quietly.  "Not your fault."  

Donovan quirked a brow at Quinn's softened attitude.  He hadn't heard her that accommodating since before their mission that went sour those many years ago.  Of course, there had been no contact between them since that mission either.  All he knew of her was from the reports he had read on her and Sam.   

Quinn waited patiently for Donovan to turn and lead the way back to Jake's group.  For the first ten minutes of the hike back, she maintained her focus on her surroundings.  She noted the water moccasins that skirted across the water, taking great care to scout the walking path for any of the creepy little reptiles.  She hated snakes with a passion that almost matched her loathing for the man she drew up alongside of.  

When he made no acknowledgement of her presence, she took the time to study his profile.  His chiseled features made him appear imposing all on their own.  Add his dark skin tone, the richness of his brown eyes, and his short raven hair with just that little dab of gray at the temples, and Quinn felt her body betray her emotions as her pulse quickened from just looking at the man.  She groaned inwardly as she silently admonished herself.  These were thoughts the old Quinn would have, the Quinn that lived and breathed before that fateful night.  She had long thought that Quinn was dead and buried, but to have her come out of hiding for _this_ man?  Preposterous.  Too much sun must be making her think crazy thoughts.

Donovan instinctively felt her studying him.  He momentarily shifted his gaze in her direction without turning his head.  "Nothing to say, Quinn?  You're awfully quiet today," he commented offhandedly.  He watched her small nose wrinkle into an irritated scowl.  It was easy to get her ire up; it always had been.  _Even before..._

"What's to say, Commander?  We hike, we overcome obstacles as they present themselves, we reach the designated area for pickup, and we go home.  Yay us."

"You have a way summing things up," he replied in a disinterested tone.  "Your sunblock is wearing off."

Quinn stopped in her tracks, looking at him as though he had lost his mind.  "You have a sunblock fetish or something, Donovan?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he responded, amused.  "But with that red hair...I'm thinking a beet red nose wouldn't go well.  Also," he added, reaching into his back pocket, "I think you need this."  He unfolded a camouflage cap that he had shoved into his pocket and placed it on her head.  "Your scalp is getting burned."

Quinn rolled her eyes as she snatched the cap off her head and tossed it back at him.  "I don't _do_ hats," she snapped, reaching into her side pocket and pulling out her sunblock.  She applied a good coat to her exposed arms, face, neck, and ears.  "Happy now?"

Donovan shook his head in exasperation.  "It's your skin, Quinn.  Put this on before you're taken down by sunstroke."  He tossed the cap back at her.

She huffed irritably as she placed the cap on her head, shoving her long braid haphazardly underneath it.  "Fine."  She smiled at him, but knew it came off as a smarmy gesture, not one of thanks.  During their morning hike she had made the decision to appear more amiable.  It was a good way to lull him into a false sense of security.  Her smile changed to one of evil determination as he presented his back to her and moved off to catch up to Cody.  As soon as he let his guard down, she would exact her revenge.

~*~

"Here," Jake waved an arm in the general direction.  "The tree must have been struck by lightning during a recent storm."  

"It's sturdy!" A voice yelled from across the span of water.

Donovan shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked for the figure.  Sam stood alongside Alex and Monica awaiting the remainder of the group.  "Very good," he said absently.  "Quinn, you cross next."

Quinn shrugged and made quick work of traversing the toppled log.  Thankfully, it was quite large and posed no real problem, if one were careful.  Cody and then Donovan followed as soon as Quinn made it across.  

"Hurry up, Jake!" Cody called out.

"Yes, Jake.  I'd like to reach Sanctuary before dark," Donovan commented pointedly.  

Jake stared at the log in earnest.  _I can do this; I can do this._  He leapt up onto the log and took one tentative step, bringing him over the water.  He hated water, or what he thought was "filthy" water.  He could swim, that was not the issue, but the thought of swimming in anything other than a swimming pool gave him the downright willies.  He took two more slow steps to bring him near the middle of his short journey over the log.

"Hurry it up, Shaw!" Alex taunted.

Jake looked up quickly at the sound of her voice just as he was taking another step.  His foot came down onto the log, just off center, causing him to slip.  He flailed his arms in a valiant attempt to regain his balance, but to no avail.  He took a sideways dive into the chest high water, backpack and all.

Sputtering, he splashed to the surface and began the short swim to shore.  "I'm gonna kill you, Cross!" he bellowed between strokes.

Monica squinted as she watched his progress.  Something that looked like a dead leaf was stuck to his neck, but as he crawled up the small bank, she noted grimly that several of the 'leaves' were also stuck to his arms.  

Donovan shook his head as he caught sight of the little parasites that clung to Jake.  Sighing, he held a hand out to Alex.  "Give me your lighter."

"What, I..."

"Just do it," he commanded without explanation.  When Alex slapped it into his palm, he strode quickly over to Jake.  "Hold still," he insisted, flicking the lighter.

"What the hell," Jake backed away when Donovan brought the small flame toward his face.

"You're covered in leeches, Jake.  Hold still," he repeated firmly.

"I'm what?" He saw the little black slugs on his arms and immediately made to pull them off.  "How gross!"

"Don't.  The flame will get them off completely," Donovan informed him as he passed the lighter over a leech on Jake's forearm.  It released its hold and immediately fell to the ground.  

Jake growled as Donovan went for the slug attached to his throat.  "You'll pay for this, Alex."

Sam produced another lighter and handed it to Quinn.  "You may have the honors," he said in amusement.

"Gee, thanks."  She joined Donovan and helped removed the creatures quickly.  Once Jake's exposed areas were cleared of the parasites, she looked thoughtfully up at Donovan.  "His shirt's untucked."

Donovan nodded and released an exasperated breath.  "Take off your shirt, Jake."

Jake rolled his eyes and shucked the backpack quickly and then removed his shirt.  Just as suspected, several of the creatures had attached themselves to his back, chest, and abdomen.  

While Quinn removed the leeches on Jake's back, Donovan worked on the ones on his chest.  "Any water flow in through your waistband?" Quinn asked, tugging on Jake's belt.

"Some," Jake answered a bit worriedly.  

Quinn couldn't hide the grin on her face as she moved around Jake to join Donovan.  She handed him the lighter she held.  "Sorry, Commander, but there are just some lengths I'm not prepared to go."

Donovan did his best to keep a straight face when Jake looked up apprehensively.  "Take 'em down, Jake."

Jake scanned the area and the amused expressions that graced each person's face.  Never in his life had he ever felt such humiliation.  He had no choice; he could feel the slimy things on him, whether they were real or imagined.  He reached for the buckle on his pants with shaky hands.

"Sam, take everyone ahead and scout a good path for the next leg of our journey," Donovan commanded with as much sternness as he could muster.  He had no idea why he was finding this so amusing, but it had definitely struck his funny bone.  He wouldn't let Jake know, however; he could just imagine the humiliation he was suffering.

"Damn," Monica lamented.  "We were about to see if homeboy is hung."

Alex leaned in close to Monica and whispered, "Been there, seen that.  Trust me; he's not all that."

"Damn, you women are cold," Cody said, laughing. 

Donovan walked around Jake but found no leeches clinging to his legs.  He did see something that gave him a deep chill and the overwhelming urge to protect himself.  

"What's wrong?" Jake asked, seeing the expression on Donovan's face.  He hadn't seen any of the black slugs on his legs, so he had figured he was in the clear.

Donovan reached out and placed one of the lighter's in Jake's hand.  "You're on your own, Jake."

Jake's gazed followed the direction Donovan pointed until he spied the problem.  The front of his white briefs contained a small red area that was slowly increasing in size.  Blood.

As Donovan joined the group, he heard an anguished voice cry out, "Sonofabitch!" 

"What happened?" Alex demanded, feeling guilty that she had been the one to cause Jake to fall into the leech infested water.

Donovan shook his head.  "Nothing, just a little matter Jake can handle on his own."

~*~

To be continued…


	4. Chapter Four

~*~

"Everything okay, Jake?" Alex asked when he rejoined the group.  

"Fine, just fine," he growled, pushing past her angrily.

"I'm really sorry," she apologized, trailing after him.  "I didn't mean..."

"Are they a couple or something?" Quinn asked curiously, trailing behind the group with Cody.

"Naw, just friends.  They've been UC together for a while.  You build a bond when you're partners."

She huffed slightly.  _I know all about that._  "So I'm told."

"How long have you and Sam worked together?" Cody asked, making polite conversation.  He hadn't expected Quinn's change in demeanor, but he was more than willing to talk to a pretty girl.  It wasn't like that happened to him all that often.

"Oh, off and on, about ten years," she answered, trying to keep her tone light.  

"That's a long time," he commented offhandedly.  "What's your area of expertise?"

She batted a twig out of her path.  "Intelligence.  These days, we mostly monitor specific communications for terrorist activity."

"Whoa."

Chuckling lightly, she nodded.  "Yes.  Whoa."

Donovan listened intently as they trekked through the thick foliage.  They stopped every so often, taking rest breaks, lunch breaks, and much to the extreme distaste of the women, bathroom breaks.  When he checked the map in the late afternoon it became apparent they would not reach Sanctuary by nightfall.  

Two hours before dusk he gave the orders for Sam and Jake to scout ahead for a place to set up camp.  Once located, Donovan sent Cody and Quinn to search for firewood while Jake helped Alex and Monica set up camp.

"Sam, let's see what we can scare up for food," Donovan suggested.  Lunch had consisted of a portion of their rations and he wasn't really looking forward to another helping of that.  Real meat sounded like heaven at that moment.

Less than an hour later, the group looked on as Donovan and Sam strolled back to camp, each carrying a wild rabbit by the ears.  

"Oh man!  You killed Thumper," Cody lamented.

"Just bring me one of my canteens," Donovan ordered sternly.  "Sam, can you set up a spit?"

"Consider it done," Sam replied.  He took a few of the larger twigs Quinn and Cody had gathered and began peeling the bark from them.

"You're awfully agreeable," Quinn whispered, kneeling next to him.  She took one of the twigs and began shaving the ends into a point with her knife.  

"Yeah, well, I'm hungry," he replied sharply.  

"How'd you catch 'em anyway?"

"He's got deadly aim with a knife, Quinn.  You know that," he replied, glancing at her sideways.

Quinn turned her attention to Donovan.  He was busy gutting and cleaning the rabbits.  She watched as he used his own supply of drinking water to wash the blood away.  Damn him for being so unselfish.  It really didn't matter; she was still determined to carry out her plan.  If she was going down, she would damn well see that he paid for what he had done.  

The team sat silently watching their boss ready the wild game for cooking over the makeshift spit Sam erected.  Their eyes followed Quinn as she moved from Sam's side to Donovan's, carrying two wooden skewers she had made from the kindling.

"Ready?" She asked, kneeling beside him.

Donovan nodded and reached for one of the skewers she held.  He inserted it through the animal's carcass and handed it to Quinn.  "Put that over the fire while I finish preparing the other."

Quinn nodded and placed the rabbit on the spit.  "Here ya go, Sam."

Sam nodded.  "Never was much of a cook, huh Quinn?"

"No, and proud of it," she acknowledged, as she retrieved the second rabbit from Donovan and placed it on the spit.  "You keep an eye on them."

"Will do."

It took little more than thirty minutes for the game to cook over the open flame.  There was enough for each person to have a good-sized chunk, and each considered it a blessing over the rations they carried.  

Donovan peeled off two hunks of meat and made his way over to Quinn, who was sitting alone on her sleeping bag.  "Hungry?"

Quinn nodded as she accepted the piece of rabbit.  "Thanks.  And thanks for hunting the little critters."

"May I?" he asked, pointing to the spot next to her.

"Sure, why not?" she agreed easily.  Grimacing, she peeled off a layer of meat and popped it into her mouth.  She'd had rabbit before in her lifetime, but it was definitely not something she enjoyed.  

"How've you been, Quinn?" he asked quietly as he sat cross-legged next to her.  Seeing her again made him realize that he had never really stopped missing her.  He had just tucked her away into a part of his mind that he did not allow himself to venture into often.  

"I think you know," she replied cryptically.  She looked up into his eyes and thought she saw concern and compassion there, but she had to be wrong.  Donovan didn't possess such traits.  He was cold, callous, and determined.  She needed to remember that.  "Don't look at me like that."

He shook his head slightly and massaged his brow with his fingertips.  "Like what, Quinn?  Like I care...I do...I always have."

"Stop it," she whispered hoarsely.  Shoving the remainder of the rabbit into her mouth, she uncapped her canteen.  After swallowing the meat, she took a long drink before handing him the canteen.  "You used most of your water cleaning the rabbit."

He accepted the canteen with a shrug.  "Had to do it.  I'll have enough."

"Sure," she replied, unconvinced as she watched him tip his head back and drink from the canteen.  She noted he took care not to drink very much, just enough to wet his throat.

"Quinn," he started as he handed her back the canteen.

"No," she ground out through clenched teeth.  "We cannot go back, Donovan.  You are not my friend, and I will _never_ be yours."

Releasing a sigh, Donovan scrambled to his feet and gazed down at her upturned face.  "We were friends once, Quinn.  But another friendship blinded you to the truth."

"Leave me alone," she spat hatefully.  

"Get some sleep, we'll be leaving at dawn," he ordered.

"Aye, aye, Commander."

He crossed the small area to where his sleeping bag was spread out and checked it carefully before crawling inside.  Glancing about the camp, he noted that everyone except was nestled in their sleeping bags, except Sam, who was taking the first watch to guard them from any wild animals that may be lurking.  He closed his eyes and prayed for sleep to come swiftly.  He was on the next watch.

~*~

She waited patiently.  The ebbing glow of the fire let her know that more than an hour had passed since the camp retired for the evening.  Her eyes wandered over to Sam, who had drifted off to sleep in a sitting position.  The errant thought that Donovan would have his hide for falling asleep at his post entered her mind.  It was a good thing for Sam that after she was through with him that would be the last thing on Donovan's mind.  Her fingers curled around the hilt of her knife as she slid purposefully from beneath the layer of her sleeping bag.

His ever-busy internal clock went off with alarm.  Without moving, his eyes found Sam seated on his sleeping bag, apparently sound asleep.  The fire had died down, but he saw the faintest shadow move across the camp.  Silently and stealthily the trouble moved his way.  He closed his eyes and waited.

She looked down upon his sleeping form, sinking to her knees beside him.  Images and sounds, ugly and brutal, flashed through her mind.  It hadn't been his entire fault, and yet, he was the symbol of the most horrid moment of her life.  It was time to end it; time for a little justice.  

As she raised her arm to strike, the faint glow from the fire glinted off the knife's blade.  Quinn gasped in surprise as Donovan's hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist.  "No!" came her strangled cry as she struggled against his grip. 

Donovan was surprised by the strength she held behind her attack.  He held her off easily enough, and he could end this swiftly, but she had to come to terms with the past.  Somehow, he had to make her realize things don't always go as planned and no one is to blame.  "Wake up, Quinn.  What do you hope to accomplish?" 

His voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper but sounded like a blaring horn to her.  "How could you? How could you _do_ it?" she growled, pushing forward with her upper body.  

"I didn't _do_ anything, Quinn.  When will you realize it was just...the way it had to be."  His arm wavered slightly as she struggled to free herself from his grasp.  Frustrated, she moved the knife to her free hand, but he was faster, capturing it easily within the grip of his other hand.

"Damn you, Donovan.  Damn you.  Let...me...go!"

"So you can kill me?"

"Yes," she hissed.

"And what will that solve, Quinn?  Will it change things?  Will it?"

"Shut up!"

His grip tightened on her wrists and he watched as her face grimaced with pain.  "Will it turn back the clock and bring him back?"

"God, I _hate_ you! Shut up shut up shut up!"  The sound of her own voice sickened her.  It was the sound of a weak, sniveling schoolgirl, incapable of exacting the revenge that he so richly deserved.

Donovan gazed into her tear filled eyes and wanted nothing more than to make all her hurt and frustration go away.  The old familiar wants took hold and he longed to pull her into his embrace, assure her that her demons could be exorcized, but if he even attempted to do that he might very well feel her blade embedded deep into his chest.  His expression softened just a bit as he whispered softly, "Look inside you, Quinn.  Remember what was between us before that night.  If you cannot see past your pain to the truth, then do it.  Do what you have to do to make it right for you."

Quinn's eyes widened in astonishment when he drew both hands away from her; he was allowing her free reign to do as she pleased.  She looked down at his prone form, lying still, awaiting her judgment.  Her eyes were fixed steadily onto his as she raised the knife, intent on her duty.  _Remember what was between us before that night…  _With a howl, she plunged it downward until it sunk deep into its target.  Pushing up from the ground, she ran across the small compound and collapsed face down onto her sleeping bag.

Releasing the breath he had been holding, Donovan glanced to his left without moving his head.  Quinn's Bowie knife was embedded deep into the soil next to his head.  She had missed his ear by a mere quarter of an inch.  She couldn't do it.  When push came to shove, she could not cause him any harm.  Somewhere inside her, she knew the truth of that night.  If he could just get her to admit it, there was still a chance for her.

As he sat up, he noticed the entire camp was awake, staring at him in complete shock.  Without a word to them, he made his way to Quinn and kneeled beside her.  He touched the small of her back lightly and noticed her body hitch slightly with silent sobs.  "Quinn," he whispered softly.

She sat up quickly but refused to look at him.  "I still hate you," she insisted in a hushed tone.

"You never hated me," he returned softly.  "We'll work this out, Quinn."

She looked up at him then, taking in the gentle appearance his face took on in the waning firelight.  "I just tried to kill you."  She noted the movement in the camp from over his shoulder.  She had never wished so much to be alone in her life.  As much as she was sure she hated the man kneeling before her, she was just as convinced she wanted to be held in his arms.

"Get some sleep," he ordered, touching her cheek softly.  "We'll talk more tomorrow."  He waited until she slid into her sleeping bag and closed her eyes.  Only when it appeared that she had drifted into an exhausted sleep did he leave her side.

He was immediately hit with questions when he left her to join the others.  "Before you pass judgment on her, she had her reasons for attacking me."  

"But...shouldn't we restrain her or something?" Cody asked concernedly, his eyes drifting over to the soundly sleeping woman.

Donovan shook his head.  "No, there will be no repeat performance."

"How can you be sure?" Alex asked.  "Jesus, that knife came damn close.  If I'd have had my gun, I would have killed her, Donovan."

He sighed heavily.  "I know, Alex.  Just trust me on this.  And as a personal favor to me, I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring this up to her or..."

"Treat her like a criminal?" Sam asked.  "I would appreciate that, too."

"If that's how you want it, Donovan," Monica acknowledged.  

"Thank you."  He scanned the group quickly before adding, "Since you're all awake, I'm going to catch a bit more sleep.  And Sam, fall asleep on duty again, and I'll put it on your record."

"Yes, sir!"

He returned to his sleeping bag and watched Quinn's sleeping form for a few moments before he sank down to the uncomfortable ground.  He had the feeling the rest of the group would be up for the duration, and although he intended on sleeping, he knew that his dreams would be just as haunted as the frightened and confused woman who slept across the camp from him.  The time for talk and understanding would come with the dawning of the new day; he only hoped she was ready to face the truth she had buried behind the villain she had created. 

~*~

To be continued…


	5. Chapter Five

~*~

"Sam, I think we deserve some kind of explanation," Monica reasoned, meeting his reluctant gaze.

"Maybe you do," he answered cryptically.  "But I think any explanations to you should come from your boss."

"You were involved," Alex interjected.  "You have just as much right to talk about it."

"Or not talk about it," he reasoned.  He searched the faces of Donovan's team.  He knew their reputation and had a lot of respect for what they did every day of their lives.  It was apparent they held Donovan in high regard.  That was something he would have had to earn with these people; they would not just hand over their respect as if it was something taken lightly.  No, Donovan would have had to work hard for it.  

As much as Quinn had sheltered herself from any news of Donovan's career, Sam had followed it with great interest.  It had taken him years to overcome the anger of that night, but he had eventually come to terms with it.  He no longer held Donovan responsible; there were just too many factors that caused things to go wrong.  But that realization did not come with the release of his distrust of others; that remained as strong as Quinn's.  

He lived with the fear of someday going through a similar situation where he would take part in yet another teammate or friend suffering through the same fate as Troy's.

"Sam?" Monica spoke softly, noting he seemed to be in some strange trance.  

Sam blinked slowly as he focused on her beautiful dark features.  He had not said the name Troy, even silently in his mind, in years.  It threw him just a bit as the old familiar remorse took hold of him.  "Yes?" he acknowledged quietly.

"You know Donovan won't tell us and it's more than apparent Quinn is unable to," Alex commented as her gaze drifted over to Quinn's sleeping form.  "Her behavior, and Donovan's acceptance of it, is quite bizarre."

Jake and Cody sat gingerly on a nearby log waiting for Sam to spill what he knew of Donovan's past.  Not one member of the group would deny their curiosity was getting the better of them.  It wasn't just the wild scene that had just taken place between Donovan and Quinn that had their interest peaked.  Ever since Donovan had taken command of the SOG almost a year ago, they had tried to uncover his secrets.  Their efforts were met with little success; what information they gained was through Donovan himself, and he remained quite tightlipped.  

Sam nodded as he picked up a stick that lay at his feet and began to draw circles in the dirt.  "Quinn and I have worked together since our days as new recruits.  Before we met your boss, we were teamed with one other agent on a regular basis.  Quinn and I work mostly as researchers, and still do to this day," he informed them.  Twirling the stick slowly between his fingers, he looked beyond their curious eyes into the comforting darkness of the forest.  "The other agent I mentioned, Troy Marchant, dealt mostly with search and rescue.  He was also a demolitions expert."

"Was?" Cody asked, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees.

"Yes," Sam acknowledged without looking at him.  "Was.  But you're getting ahead of me."

"Sorry," Cody apologized.  "Please, go on."

"I've acquainted myself with your profiles, so I'm aware of your hand in the capture of Armando Uribe," Sam inserted quickly, watching their heads nod in unison.  "So you're aware of the caches of military supplies that were stashed around Colombia for certain people?"

"Yes," Jake answered swiftly.  "What does that have to do with you and Quinn?"

"The supply that he dipped into when you went after him…was supposed to have been destroyed," Sam explained cryptically.  "You see, several years ago Donovan was assigned to take a team in and destroy them.  He chose Quinn and I to gather intelligence.  Troy was brought in to handle and set the explosives."

"So, this was the mission that went bad?" Monica assumed.

Nodding, Sam continued, "Donovan worked with us for nearly six months.  Quinn and I, along with Donovan, handled topographical analysis and intelligence gathering.  Troy and Donovan carefully laid out a plan of what order to hit the caches."  Sam paused and reached for his canteen.  He took a large swallow of water before he continued to speak.  "Anyway, Donovan worked with us intensively during those six months, preparing us for actually going in, you know?  It wasn't going to be a piece of cake, parachuting in under darkness, etc."

"Sounds pretty by the book so far," Alex commented.

"It was.  So, for six months, we worked together day and night, night and day.  The night before the mission, Troy and I walked into our conference area and well…"

"What?" Cody demanded.  "You caught Big Daddy doing the wild thing, didn't you?"

Monica shook her head in mock disgust.  "Jesus Cody, you're such a child."

Sam chuckled softly.  "No, man.  Nothing like that.  But it was pretty obvious there was something between him and Quinn, something they both had pushed aside the entire time Donovan had been working with us."

"So, what happened on the mission?" Jake asked curiously.

Quinn rolled onto her side, still fully awake and quite aware of the conversation taking place just a few feet away.  She had pretended to sleep while she was under Donovan's scrutiny, but she knew there was no way that was going to happen; not after what she had done.

Donovan sighed softly as he spied Quinn's movement across the small camp.  He lay on his side, his head pillowed on his arm, wide awake and listening to Sam telling his team vague details of their past.  He turned his thoughts to Quinn.  _Is she sleeping?_  He really didn't believe she was, but he was not worried that she would attempt to harm him.  That was over; now would come the realization of what was really behind her attack.  

"We set off as scheduled," Sam explained, his voice barely above a whisper.  "The jump took place at the designated coordinates.  Call it what you will, wind sheer or just plain bad luck, but we scattered in different directions.  Quinn and I caught up with Donovan quickly…"

_"Where's Troy," Quinn asked, sidling up next to Donovan and Sam._

_"He should be less than a mile to our east," Donovan replied.  He took off at a quick pace, noting that Sam and Quinn stayed close on his heels.  "Keep it quiet," he urged softly.  "No telling if we attracted attention.  Best to play it safe."_

_Under the cover of darkness and dressed completely in black commando gear, it was a good bet they would not easily be detected, but Donovan wasn't willing to take that chance.  Staying off anything that looked like a previously traveled path, they made their way slowly through the thick foliage.  It took extra time that way, but he was unwilling to risk his team's lives by taking a quicker route.  _

_"There he is," Sam whispered harshly, pointing over Donovan's shoulder to the trees up above._

_"Damn it!" Donovan growled.  _

_"Yeah, what a fuck up, eh Donovan?" Troy called from his precarious position, hanging from the branches of an extremely large tree.  "Care to help me down?"_

_"Can't climb up there, Troy," Donovan called softly.  "You're going to have to cut yourself out of that."_

_"Are you insane!" Quinn gasped.  "He's too high…he'll break something at the very least."_

_"Quiet!" Donovan spat harshly, extending his arms.  Noises nearby alerted him to company._

_"Come on…" Troy pleaded.  _

_"Keep silent, Troy," Donovan ordered, "try to stay still and pray whoever is headed our way doesn't look up."_

_"Thanks a butt load, Commander."_

Sam paused momentarily when he spied movement from Quinn's bedroll.  Sadly, she had probably heard every word he was saying and for that he felt extreme regret.  It was never his intention to hurt her, but he also felt obligated to explain the circumstances behind her behavior.

Quinn covered her eyes with her forearm as the memories of that night assaulted her brain.  All the years of pent up frustration and hatred had been released in a foolhardy attack on the man she blamed for all that went wrong that night.  _A man you **falsely** blamed, Quinn.  Admit it to yourself – he did nothing wrong.  _

She sighed as she fought against her own thoughts.  One half of her wanted to continue to blame Donovan, while the other half knew it was unfair.  The worst thing Donovan had done was prevent them from running back into a situation that would only have resulted in their deaths.  The way he had handled her had been extreme, showing her exactly what kind of power he could and would wield over her if necessary.  He had shocked her, had frightened her, and, at that time, she had felt he had betrayed her.  

_Without responding, Donovan ushered Quinn and Sam into the dense foliage.  He had no idea who or what was headed their way, but to risk the entire team was out of the question.  _

_Feeling as though they were at a safe distance, Donovan used hand signals to communicate with Quinn and Sam.   At that point all they could do was sit tight and hope the danger passed them by; however, that was not to be the case._

_"**¡Aquí! **(Over here!)" _

_Donovan slipped on his night vision goggles.  He cursed softly under his breath as a band of guerrillas came into view and neared Troy's location.  It was obvious their entrance had been spotted.  The men gathered below Troy, pointing and jabbing the rifles they carried at his dangling legs while he struggled fiercely to free himself._

_"**Cortar él abajo** (Cut him down)**,"** the leader ordered._

_Donovan, Sam, and Quinn watched helplessly as several men worked to free Troy of his parachute.  After a few attempts, Troy shouting obscenities all the while, he fell haphazardly to the ground.  The sound of bone cracking followed by an anguished cry was loud enough to be heard from their vantage point._

_"We need to help him," Sam whispered harshly._

_"We cannot," Donovan insisted coldly.  "You all knew the risks.  We're heavily outnumbered and their firepower is much greater.  It would be suicide."_

_"But they'll…"  Quinn argued but was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps._

_"Move out," Donovan ordered, shoving at both Quinn and Sam to get them moving.  _

_As they ran through the dark jungle, avoiding confrontation with the guerillas, they could hear a voice calling out to them.  "Where the hell are you?  Don't let them…" Troy Marchant's words ended and tortured screams began._

"I'm going back…" 

"Quinn and I foolishly wanted to try to fight through more men than we could count.  The only thing stopping us was…"

"Donovan," Jake finished.  "If he hadn't, you'd be dead."

"Sometimes I think…it might have been better," Sam admitted quietly.

"The guilt?" Monica questioned.

Sam nodded.  "Of course.  The guilt was terrible…those screams."  Sam paused and took a steadying breath.  "Troy was a longtime friend…"

"And it was my fault."

All heads turned at the sound of the sorrowful voice to see Quinn adjusting herself to a sitting position on her sleeping bag.  It had been pointless to even feign sleep; the memories were much too strong and she could not block them out.  

"How can you say that, Quinn?" Sam asked sympathetically.  "You can't blame…"

"Why not?" she demanded forcefully.  "I blamed Donovan all these years.  Why not shoulder it myself?  I was in charge of the satellite surveillance.  I monitored military troops and their positions.  It was my responsibility…"

"Stop," Donovan ordered.  He sat up slowly while keeping his eyes fixed steadily on Quinn.  "Don't you think it's time to let go of blame and just accept what happened?"  He waited for an answer, but her only response was to lower her gaze and turn her head away.  He sighed and pushed himself to his feet, moving closer to the dying fire.  He tossed a few small logs onto it and poked determinedly at the glowing embers.

"Troy was more than a friend, Donovan…he was family," Sam explained weakly.

"He knows that, Sam," Quinn whispered, watching the flames grow and flicker as Donovan stoked the fire.  She could not force herself to look up although she could feel his gaze on her.  Suddenly, the events of the evening catching up to her, she felt queasy and could feel the bile rising quickly.

"I do know…" Donovan began, but was cut off by Quinn unexpectedly leaping to her feet and dashing into the dark forest.  

"Quinn!" Sam called out.

Donovan scrambled after her, but did not immediately approach when the sound of violent retching assaulted his ears.  It only further proved to him that she wrestled with the consequences of what she had done and that she truly did not want to harm him.  When he finally came upon her, she was leaning heavily against a tree.  He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder and felt her tense instantly.  "It's okay, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head as she tiredly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  "No, it's not, Frank.  I tried to kill you."  _Frank? When was the last time I called him, or even thought of him as, **Frank**?_

Her shoulders slumped visibly and she suddenly appeared small and helpless.  It was odd for him to think of her that way because she was such a strong person.  Yet, he could not help himself from pulling her into the comfort of his arms; at least he hoped she found them a comfort.  "You wouldn't have gone through with it, Quinn."

She buried her face against his firm chest, drinking in his spicy masculine scent.  She felt his arms close around her and wanted so badly to relax against him and let his warmth envelop and soothe her.  She was torn by the anger she harbored for the past five years and the feelings for Frank she had kept deeply buried.  They warred with each other until she had no fight left within her.  

Donovan released a small sigh when he felt Quinn's arms circle his waist and her body relax against his.  His hope was that she was finally willing to let go of the past and go on with her life.  

"How could you possibly know I wouldn't have gone through with it?" she asked quietly against his chest.  

"Just a hunch," he answered, resting his chin on top of her head.  "We should get back to the group.  You never know what's lurking in the darkness."

"Like what?" she asked, pulling away slightly to gaze intently into the darkness.

"Oh…panthers, alligators…snakes."  He almost released a chuckle when he felt Quinn's deep shudder.  Her 'love' of reptiles was well known.  

She pushed away reluctantly and began walking away, but turned to see his face in the dim moonlight.  She could not begin to fathom how he could not want to see her punished for her actions.  It made no sense.  He should have demanded she be tied up at the very least, but here he was reaching out to her.  Had his feelings for her back then been that deep?  Did he truly care for her?  She was beginning to become dizzy from the thoughts that whipped through her mind.  

"You okay?" he asked, wondering what she was thinking while she gave him the once over.

"No," she admitted honestly.  "But…I think I will be."

Donovan nodded curtly.  "You will.  I never had a doubt."

"Thank you, Frank," she whispered softly.

"Just hearing you call me Frank again is thanks enough," he replied genuinely.  He took her by the arm and they made their way back to camp.

~*~

Dark eyes followed Donovan and Doyle's every movement.  He had witnessed Doyle's attack on Donovan and his heart had nearly burst from his chest with the pride he took in her actions.  For a moment it looked as if she was going to carry out the larger part of his quest, but that was not to be the case.  Her weaker side won out and she could not fulfill a claim he had overheard her make again and again during the last few years.  Oh, she wanted something from Donovan all right, but not his death.  

He shook his head slowly as he watched them return to camp.  He would lie in wait and when the opportunity was right, he would make his move.  Sooner or later, those that betrayed him would meet their fate.  He rose from his position and made his bed for the remainder of the evening.  When he awakened, he would make sure their hell would begin.

~*~


	6. Chapter Six

~*~

Breakfast the next morning consisted of survival rations.  Donovan grimaced as he swallowed the remainder of his water.  His gaze swept over each member of his party.  He would not consider any one of them an outdoorsy type and it was beginning to show.  They were holding it together well, but it was more than obvious they were missing the comforts of civilization.

"I don't think my back will ever be the same," Alex lamented as she stood and stretched.  "Gawd," she cried as her spine cracked and popped.  

Quinn returned to camp with Monica after making a short trek into the woods for a little privacy.  Her eyes immediately sought out Donovan and noticed as he shook his two canteens.  It was obvious to Quinn they were empty.  She had no idea how much farther they needed to travel before they reached Sanctuary, but she knew he could not make it without water.  None of them could.  Reaching down, she hefted her backpack onto her shoulders and snapped its belt's catches into place.  As she made her way over to Donovan, she removed one of her canteens and held it out to him.

Donovan lifted his head when she approached.  "What's this about?" he asked, taking the canteen from her.

"My other canteen is nearly half full…you'll need that," she insisted.

He stood and fixed the canteen to his backpack.  "Thank you."  He was not about to protest because he knew she spoke the truth.  They still had miles to travel and although the sun was just beginning to brighten the dawn sky, he could tell it was going to be a scorcher.  "You let me know if you run out of water."

Quinn nodded and moved off to join Sam.  She glanced back at Donovan for a moment and then turned quickly away.  Although his people had gone out of their way to act as though the previous night had not happened, she still felt uncomfortable and ill at ease.  At least with Sam she did not feel as though she was being judged.  It wasn't that she felt she was above reproach; on the contrary, she felt as though she should be drawn and quartered.  Although she was sure Sam did not condone her actions, she was just as sure he completely understood them.  He would never judge her.

Donovan gave the order to move out after the camp had been policed and evidence of their stay had been removed or buried.  Glancing behind him, he noticed the group had broken up into pairs again.  Alex was doing her best to soothe a still pride-injured Jake, Cody was chattering away at Monica who only pretended to listen, and Sam and Quinn brought up the rear.  He sighed a little, noting that both had fallen quiet and sullen.  He didn't mind the silence, but he didn't want them brooding, either.  If nothing else came of this weekend, he wished for them to break from the past and embrace life again.  

He slowed his pace and allowed Jake, Alex, Monica, and Cody to move past him.  As he fell back, he handed the map off to Jake, giving him lead.  It not only gave him a chance to gauge Jake's ability to handle unfamiliar situations, but also attempt to drag Quinn and Sam out of the moods they had fallen into.  

"Do you think it's wise to let Shaw lead the group?" Sam asked when he drew alongside Donovan.

"Why do you ask?"

"He's a street kid," Sam responded coldly.  "He'll wind up getting us lost in this muck and heavens knows when we'll reach Sanctuary."

Donovan arched a brow.  "You think?  I don't know…Jake's got a good head on his shoulders."  He paused long enough to give the impression that he was mulling over Sam's words.  "Why don't you catch up to him and make sure he keeps us on solid ground." 

Sam gave a brief nod and took off at a slow jog to catch up to Jake.

"What was that all about?" Quinn asked, not a bit fooled by Donovan's ruse.

"I think he needs to stay occupied," Donovan answered shortly.  "And I think you need someone to talk to."  

Quinn balked at his suggestion.  "I'm fine and I don't _feel like talking."_

"I'm sure you don't," he replied, taking her elbow and urging her forward.  "But isn't that the sort of attitude that got you where you are now?"  

Quinn rolled her eyes as they ducked around a protruding tree limb.  "What don't you know about my situation, Frank?"

He caught the sarcastic tone of her voice but let it slide off him.  "I know you BS'd your way through your evaluations after that mission.  I know you've fooled one therapist after another," he accused softly.

Quinn stopped suddenly and glared at his back as he walked by.  He was right and she hated the fact that he was.  "What's your point to this discussion, Donovan?"

He stopped and turned to face her.  "Back to Donovan, are we?"  He chuckled disappointedly.  "My point is that I know you have issues to work through and I hope that you're ready to face them."

  
She sighed and crossed the distance between them quickly.  "I'm sorry, Frank.  Old habits die hard," she explained lamely.  Standing near him, her thoughts drifted to the previous night and the comfort of his arms as he held her.  She reached out and tentatively touched his hand with her fingertips. 

Her touch was so light that if he had not been watching her movements, he might not have known she touched him at all.  He moved his hand slowly from hers to travel up the length of her arm, her shoulder, to gently cup the side of her neck and stroke her cheek with his thumb.  "Let them go, Quinn," he whispered as he slowly pressed closer to her.  "There is so much more that I need from you than your anger and sarcasm," he assured her, his lips just a breath away from hers.

Quinn's eyes closed in reflex to the sound of his soft, honey-coated voice as it floated into her ears and his warm breath caressed her face.  "Please…don't," she pleaded softly, straining against the hand at her neck that held her in place.  She opened her eyes slowly and immediately was lost within the dark depth of his.  

"You've haunted my dreams for years," he explained softly without moving away from her.  His lips grazed hers as he spoke, only feeding his need to taste the sweetness of her lips that had been denied him for so long.

Quinn's hands came up to rest against his chest.  She could feel his heart beating rapidly against her palms.  Its tempo matched her own.  "I'm afraid, Frank…"

He groaned softly as he fought back the desire to just press forward and capture her lips in a fevered kiss.  Her soft plea, her fear, held him back, but still he did not move.  He was rooted firmly in one spot with barely enough room between their bodies for air to get through.  His eyes searched hers for an undetermined amount of time and he wished with all that he was that he could erase all her troubled thoughts.  "You don't have to be afraid, Quinn…please, believe me when I tell you the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you."

Quinn closed her eyes again.  Mentally she reached out and clung to the genuine honesty she heard in his voice.  Was she fooling herself?  Was she just looking for something that wasn't there?  If he didn't care, why was he doing this?  It wasn't just to get into her panties, that much she was sure.  During the time she worked with him, she came to respect him as a person and didn't believe he was capable of such deceit.  _And yet you believed he had willingly led Troy to his death?  You're such a hypocrite, Quinn._  

He sensed that she was struggling with her emotions.  He was a bastard to be pushing her at this stage and he mentally kicked himself.  It was time to pull away and give her the space she asked for.

She whimpered slightly when he moved just the tiniest bit away from her.  Instinctively her fingers curled around the material of his shirt, stopping him from pulling away.  Hesitantly she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips firmly against his.  A muffled cry escaped from deep within her throat when she finally gave into years of denial.  Releasing her fingers from his shirt, her hands traveled the short distance over his shoulders to wind her arms about his neck.  

Donovan was torn between the urge to release a triumphant whoop and the need to hold onto the moment for as long as possible.  Instead, he pressed the entire length of his body against hers; his hands moved slowly down her back, molding her to him perfectly.  Slowly, deliberately, his tongue slipped through his parted lips to trail unhurriedly over first her lower and then upper lip before probing the slight opening of her mouth.  

A hungry moan escaped him as he plunged forward, his tongue touching hers cautiously at first, until her eager response urged him onward.  Five years worth of need was poured into the kiss.  Demand and passion rolled into one blissful moment as their lips slid seductively over each other's.  He had dreamed of Quinn's kiss, the sweet salty taste of her, but his imagination had fallen far short of the real thing.  Never had he felt such intense pleasure and painful need wrapped together at one time.  He needed so much more than this.

His kiss was bruising, but that barely registered with Quinn.  The only thing that mattered was the liquid fire that developed from deep within her core and radiated outward.  _Oh gawd, his lips…his delicious lips,_ she moaned inwardly as she gently pulled his lower lip into her mouth and teased the sensitive flesh with her tongue.  At the same time that she felt his hand at the back of her head, grasping her braid determinedly, her fingers slid into his silky locks.  _Let me stay here forever,_ her mind demanded.  _This could be heaven on earth._

~*~

"I think we should continue heading in this direction," Jake stated firmly as he pointed straight ahead.

Sam glanced at the map and then at the surrounding area.  "Yes, I agree."

"Um…has anyone seen our illustrious leader and his manic sidekick?" Cody asked jokingly.

Everyone in the group shook their heads.  No one had seen them in quite some time.

"Sam," Jake said, handing him the map.  "You continue on and I'll double back and look for them."

Sam nodded as he accepted the map.  His eyes fell upon Jake's Bowie knife as he fingered the hilt.  "Don't worry, Quinn didn't pull anything," he assured him, knowing Jake was thinking that Quinn had attacked Donovan again and possibly succeeded.

"Didn't say she did," Jake replied, dropping his hand to his side.  "I'll catch up to you as quickly as I can."

Jake left the group and headed off at a brisk walk.  It was hot, damned hot, and anything above a walking pace was difficult and only done if necessary.  He honestly did not think anything had happened to Donovan.  It was more likely that he and Quinn had been distracted in some manner or another.  He shook his head, silently questioning Donovan's apparent lapse in judgment in regards to Quinn's behavior the previous night.

He groaned and wiped the sweat from his brow, scanning the area as he moved along as quickly as possible.  His thoughts were busy processing the events that occurred between his boss and the lady CIA agent causing his attention to the landscape to wane.  He never noticed the slight change in the ground's color as he stepped forward.

~*~

To be continued…


	7. Chapter Seven

~*~

Donovan reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled away, breathless.  He gazed down into Quinn's green eyes; never had he seen them so dark, almost the color of moss.  Passion and desire made them appear deep and fathomless.  When she moved her hand from his hair to press her palm against his cheek, he leaned into her touch, but could not bear to tear his eyes from hers.  The moment felt magical and, although he knew it would have to, he never wanted it to end.

The absence of his lips on hers left her cold and empty.  The feeling frightened her almost as much as he had back in that dark jungle all those years ago.  How someone could possess such power over her, astounded her.  He had entered her life quite innocently enough, but somehow, when she wasn't looking, he captured her soul for his very own.  Her brain screamed for her to fight her feelings and run away, far away, as fast as she could.  Her heart, however, calmed those urges.  It was tired of fighting; it was ready to surrender.  Only time would tell if she was making the right decision.

"Donovan! Alex!"  

The frantic shout caused both Donovan and Quinn to jump apart and turn toward the voice.  

"That's Jake," Donovan stated worriedly.  "Let's go," he ordered, taking Quinn by the elbow and heading off in the direction the voice came from.

"Anyone!  Help!"

Donovan and Quinn ran to Jake's position at the same time Alex, Monica, Sam, and Cody arrived from the opposite direction.

"Jake!" Alex yelled, shocked.

"Stay back!" Donovan barked loudly.  "Quicksand!  It's quicksand," he explained as he inched forward slowly.  "Jake, don't struggle, stay still," he urged as he attempted to determine the exact circumference of the pit.  Somehow Jake had managed to embed himself in the center of the pit, most likely from trying to work his way free of the muck that was slowly pulling him downward.

"What do you think?" Sam asked as he took a wide path around the quicksand.

"I think you should hurry up and get my ass out of here!" Jake yelled.  He was up to his chest in the messy sand and sinking slowly.  He was doing his best to keep his arms and hands above the surface.

"We are, Jake.  Stay calm," Donovan insisted.  Removing his belt, he made a loop with one end and gripped the other end firmly in his hand.  "Sam, Cody…hold on to my legs."  

Donovan lowered himself to the ground near the edge of the quicksand.  Lying flat, he propped himself up onto one elbow and tossed the looped end of the belt toward Jake.  It fell approximately a foot short of its mark.  

"Hang on to me," he ordered firmly.  The only way to reach Jake was to stretch the upper part of his body over the quicksand.  He pushed himself forward and pitched the belt toward Jake again.  

With one hand anchored firmly on solid ground, he did his best to keep his upper body out of the thick liquid.  When Jake grabbed a hold of the belt, shouting a firm "Got it!", the force pulled Donovan in farther, causing him to lose his grip and land face first in the muck.

Donovan held his breath while his head was submerged.  Telling himself to stay calm, he hoped it would not take his team long to react.  He wasn't looking forward to choking to death on quicksand. 

"Hold him!" Alex shouted as she and the others joined Cody and Sam.  Both she and Quinn reached for and grabbed hold of Donovan's backpack, while Monica held on to Alex and Sam reached out with one hand to hold Quinn firmly in place.  

"Come on, Shaw!" Quinn shouted.  "Pull yourself out…"  She nodded to Alex and, with a firm tug, they lifted Donovan far enough out of the mire that he could once again breathe.  "You okay, Donovan?"

"Yeah," he shouted, sputtering.  With his body firmly anchored by the others, he began the tiring task of pulling Jake from the quicksand.  "Damn it, Jake.  See if you can release the catch on your backpack.  Without it weighing you down, we might have a better chance!"

Jake nodded and plunged his hand into the thick muck.  He fumbled with the catch for a moment before it finally let loose.  

After shedding the backpack, Donovan was able to pull Jake bit by bit toward him.  After several exhausting minutes, Jake was near enough to Donovan that they were able to link wrists.  With intense effort, the gang on shore dragged Donovan and Jake back onto solid ground.  

"Thanks," Jake panted, slapping Donovan on the shoulder.

"You bet," he returned, panting heavily himself.  

"I'm really starting to hate this place," Jake commented, wiping at the quicksand that clung to his body.  "Damn, I need a shower."

"You sure do," Alex commented, wrinkling her nose as she crawled over to him.  "But thank God you're okay."

Jake nodded.  "What the hell, Donovan?  I come back to find you two because you'd been missing for a while…and look what happens!"

Donovan shrugged.  "I don't recall telling you to keep an eye on me.  Next time, follow orders."

Jake rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to cleaning the mess from his body and clothing.

Quinn knelt next to Donovan and removed her backpack.  Taking out a towel, she fumbled with her canteen. 

"No," he insisted, putting a hand out, stopping her.  

"Forget that, Donovan.  You don't want that stuff getting into your eyes," she argued, wetting the towel with the remaining water in her canteen.

Donovan shook his head as he accepted the towel and cleaned the quicksand from his face and neck.  He glanced around the group and found them watching him intently.  He could see they were all perplexed by Quinn's actions, but he was not about to offer any explanations.  What was between him and Quinn would stay that way.  It was no one's business but theirs.  

"Okay…good job working together to help Jake out."  He scrambled to his feet and held a hand out to help Quinn to hers.  "Now, let's get moving…"

"Yeah," Cody agreed.  "I sure as hell don't want to spend another night sleeping with the bugs and snakes."

Monica rolled her eyes at him.  "Who says we won't find worse conditions when we reach our destination?"

"Gee, thanks, Monica.  Way to keep up morale," Cody responded dejectedly.

Donovan held back a smirk.  They were in for quite a surprise once they reached Sanctuary.

~*~

Monica listened in amusement as Alex tried to talk Jake out of his miserable mood.  He insisted this weekend was stacking up to be a 'torment Jake' weekend.  Of course, that was just ridiculous, but Monica had to admit it was an odd coincidence that bad things keep happening to Jake.  

She slowed her pace a bit, allowing Quinn to move alongside her.  "Thirsty?" she asked, offering her a canteen.

Quinn nodded.  "A little," she replied, accepting the offer.  She took a swallow and handed it back.  "Thanks."

"No problem," Monica said sincerely.  Since they left the pit of quicksand some twenty odd minutes before, Monica had been rolling the events of the weekend around in her mind.  The dynamics of Donovan's relationship with Quinn, and Sam for that matter, were complicated.  Ever since Quinn had attacked Donovan, her whole demeanor had changed.  She had literally given up her entire water supply to or for Donovan.  That alone told Monica Quinn's feelings ran deeply for him.  No one would risk dehydration or worse for just anyone.  "Are you okay?"

A wry smile touched Quinn's lips before disappearing altogether.  "I don't know," she admitted, making eye contact with the profiler.  

"I'm not trying to be nosey," Monica assured her.  

"I know," she said, jerking her head in Donovan's direction.  "He's important in your lives and I…" She was so torn up by her actions she couldn't form the words.

"Don't try to explain, you don't have to," she said, placing a gentle hand on Quinn's shoulder.  "And he doesn't want you to…you owe us nothing."

Quinn nodded.  "I do want you to know that I'm sorry…I…"

Donovan could hear their conversation, although their voices were mere whispers.  The regret could be plainly heard in Quinn's tone and although he knew Monica meant well, he did not want anything to cause Quinn to revert back into her shell.  "We should be there soon," he commented stepping between them.  "Another two miles or so…we should make it there by noon."

Monica shot him a look of understanding.  "Good, I'll go tell the others," she replied, moving ahead to join the larger group.

"You didn't have to send her away," Quinn protested softly as she walked slowly beside him.

"You've been through enough, Quinn," he insisted.  He placed his hand to the small of her back as they hiked along the path.  

She huffed softly but silently enjoyed the feel of his hand resting on her back.  "Please don't be so nice to me…I'm not ready for that yet."

"I swear, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met," he said, not unkindly.  His hand moved from her back to close around her upper arm.  "We still have a lot to talk about, Quinn…"

She nodded.  "I know, Frank.  But…not around the others."

"Of course not," he agreed.  "Once we get settled in, there will be plenty of time.  I can promise you privacy."

"I don't know how, with this mob," she commented, eying the group up ahead.  

"Trust me," he whispered, squeezing her arm lightly.

Quinn's gaze met his momentarily before she looked away.  Trust was a four-letter word to her, the ultimate four-letter word.  He had some questions to answer before she would even consider that word in regards to him.  "We'll see," she whispered cryptically.

~*~

"Oh, holy shit!" Alex exclaimed as they ventured into a clearing.  

Donovan laughed as he took in the sight of the surprised looks on each of their faces.  "Sanctuary" was a summer home that belonged to the Deputy Director of the CIA, Carl DeWalt, who sent them on this "mission".  It was a modest cabin, actually.  According to the information he had been sent, it contained a large bedroom and bathroom upstairs and the downstairs consisted of a kitchen/living room combination.   

"I thought we would be 'roughing it' some more!" Cody exclaimed, hopping up onto the porch that surrounded the entire cabin.

Donovan shrugged as he unlocked the door.  "Just a test of your fortitude, Agent Forrester.  Torture is over…for now."

"Haha, very funny," Cody retorted.  He pushed past Donovan and entered the cabin first.  He nearly tripped over the baggage that was piled up just inside the door.  

"All of your belongings that were left back at the base have been brought here," Donovan explained.  "Jake, there's a shower at the top of the stairs."

"Wow…this place is great," Monica commented as she moved about the room.  She reached for the lamp that sat on the end table and turned the switch.  She nearly jumped when the light flicked on.  "Electricity?"

Donovan shook his head and worked hard to hold back his laughter.  "There's a generator.  It was turned on this morning when the luggage and supplies were delivered."

"Explain to me why we're staying…why there just wasn't someone here to pick us up?" Jake asked as he made his way up the stairs.

"You'll have to ask the Director, who arranged this weekend," Donovan answered flippantly.  How could he possibly explain the mindset behind this excursion?  

He had not exactly been receptive to it at first.  His thoughts were that it would do more damage than good, however, it seemed DeWalt might have been onto something.  Sam seemed amenable to his presence and Quinn was releasing the resentment she had kept bottled inside her for five years.  DeWalt had a special interest in the two Intelligence agents, having been the one who recruited them in the first place.  DeWalt had fought tooth and nail to keep Sam and Quinn together after their failed mission when his superiors felt it best to break them apart.  

DeWalt won the battle after both agents passed all psychological exams immediately following the mission.   It was nearly a year later, when subsequent exams took place, that issues began to arise.  Now faced with little choice but to reassign the longtime friends and partners, DeWalt feigned a mission that, although it appeared legitimate on the CIA's ledger, was entirely personal.  Donovan objected to the deceitful ploy, but acquiesced when assured his team would not be held responsible for the outcome in any way.  

As he watched Quinn and Alex wash up at the kitchen sink and then turn their attention to the task of preparing sandwiches for the group from the fully stocked refrigerator, he still had to wonder if he was doing the right thing.  He couldn't deny that it appeared Quinn had made some sort of breakthrough, although he was sure she still had a long road to travel.  Sam seemed to take to the group easily enough, putting aside whatever issues he might still harbor with Donovan.  Perhaps DeWalt was right; Sam and Quinn just needed to face the person they held responsible to allow themselves to see what really happened; that it was no one's fault.

Donovan watched with amusement as Cody, Alex, and Sam all washed up in the kitchen sink and waited impatiently at the small kitchen table while Monica and Quinn prepared sandwiches.  His stomach grumbled loudly; he was just about to follow their example and make his way toward the sink to wash his face and hands when Jake lumbered down the stairs.

"Next!" A freshly cleaned Jake called loudly.  "I'd say the other person who took a header into the quicksand should go next."  

"Ew, yeah.  It smells like something died all over you," Alex deadpanned.

"Funny," Donovan retorted, grabbing his belongings from the pile of luggage near the door.  As he climbed the stairs to the shower, his stomach growled in protest.  "Save me a sandwich," he called over his shoulder.

"Sure thing," Jake answered.  "Oh, and by the way...there's no hot water."

"At this point, does it really matter?" Monica asked, tugging at her perspiration soaked shirt.  "I'd say as long as it's water...that's all that matters."

"Here, here," Sam agreed.  "By the way...who gets the only bedroom?"

Donovan snickered lightly.  "That would be _me_."

"Figures," Cody whined.  "Guess we're stuck with the couch and that stack of cots over by the wall.

"I guess you are," Donovan answered lightly as he reached the top of the stairs.  "Unless you care for the floor...or perhaps more of the outdoors."

There was no argument from anyone.  The cots or the couch would do just fine.  While each person took a turn showering, the remainder worked at setting up the cots, opening all the windows, and turning on the ceiling fans throughout the cabin.  It was while Donovan was upstairs in the bedroom that he happened upon a message that was left for him in his bag by DeWalt.  

_Donovan,_

_Have decided that if you have reached the cabin in one piece, my plan is working.  Don't expect pickup Sunday as planned; I want to give this as much time as possible.  _

_As you've no doubt discovered, the cabin has been stocked with enough food for three more days.  If you want hot water, there is a heater in the small shed off the back of the cabin – just light the pilot light.  There's enough fuel to keep the generator going, just keep an eye on it._

_If you must contact me or if an emergency comes up, there is a ham radio in the bedroom closet.  Keep it under wraps, Donovan.  I don't want them deciding it's time to bail just because they know there's a way to get in touch with 'civilization'.  _

_DeWalt._

Donovan glanced at the doorway when he spied movement in the tiny hallway.  Monica was leaving the small bathroom and the last person awaiting a shower entered.  Quinn.  He was anxious to get her alone again to clear the air between them. 

He was amazed his feelings for her had never abated over the years, although he had pushed thoughts of her to the back of his mind.  Her immediate and complete emotional withdrawal from him had stung his pride and he had to admit it had scarred him a bit.  Any personal relationships he attempted with women never amounted to much; never meant more than physical release to him.  No emotions ever entered into it. 

~*~

To be continued…


	8. Chapter Eight

~*~

Quinn released a loud and lengthy sigh as she stepped under the cool water.  The temperature wasn't even a factor; just having clean water cascade over her skin was luxurious.  She plunged her head back into the stream of water, letting it wet her hair thoroughly before reaching for the shampoo on the windowsill.  

She worked the shampoo into a thick lather before ducking back under the water.  Her eyes closed while she ran her fingers through her hair as the water washed the suds away.  Her thoughts were so preoccupied with images of the distant past, as well as the not so distant past, that she never noticed the window opening just the slightest bit.  

Several hours ago she had experienced a 'first'.  The first time Frank Donovan had kissed her; it was a memorable event, in her estimation.  It was everything she had imagined it would be those days and nights they had worked together…everything and more.  Hours before that, she had released years of hatred and frustration out on the very same man who kissed her so thoroughly.  

She moved from beneath the stream of water to soap her entire body.  Her emotions were so much at the surface that she was becoming dizzy with the effort of keeping them under control.  She wanted to laugh, cry, scream, and jump for joy all at the same time.  Another sigh escaped her as she began the task of rinsing the soap from her body.  Once more, she stood with her back to the spray of water, allowing it to massage her neck and shoulders.  Just as she was about to turn and shut off the water, she felt something slick and heavy fall onto her shoulder.  She released a frightened squeal, jumping at the same time, causing herself to slip in the porcelain tub, falling to her knees.  Without waiting to see what was in the tub with her, she clamored over the side, falling haphazardly onto the floor.  Only then did she peek over the rim of the tub to see a long, thick dark colored reptile slithering along the bottom of the tub.

"Quinn!" Frank's concerned voice called through the door.  "Are you all right?"

She snatched the towel from the rack as she backed away from the tub and attempted to stand.  "No, damn you!  A…a…GAWD!" she shuddered violently, remembering the feel of the reptile as it slid down her body.  She hurriedly wrapped the towel around herself and flung the door open. 

Donovan wrapped his arms around her body reflexively, steadying her, when she barreled full force into his chest.  Her wet hair soaked his shirt thoroughly, but it didn't faze him.  "Quinn…what's wrong?" he demanded firmly.

She pointed to the tub and shook her head.  "It…it was on me…slid all over me."  Again she was wracked with a forceful shudder.  

By that time the entire group hand lumbered up the stairs and were crowded in the tiny hallway.  He released his hold on her to slowly approach the tub.  He turned a perplexed look on her as he shut off the water.  "Quinn…it's just a black snake."

"Just…just a black snake," Quinn stammered in disbelief.  "I don't care if it's a damned garden snake!  Its creepy little boneless body was all over _mine!"_

"Jesus, Quinn…you're such a _girl_," Cody teased.  

Donovan reached down into the tub and, in one quick movement, launched the snake across the room and into Cody's arms.  Cody screamed and began dancing a little jig around a small circle, tossing the snake back at Frank.  

Hiding his smirk by keeping his back turned while he helped the snake back through the partially open window, he said, "Now who's the girl?"

"I…I just wasn't expecting that," Cody stammered, embarrassed.  

Quinn released another shudder.  Cody wasn't the only one embarrassed.  Not only had she fallen out of the tub, bruising her knees, but she now stood with only a towel covering her dripping wet body.  She did her best to keep herself covered, but it wasn't an easy task.  She bit back a hysterical whimper and pushed past the crowded doorway.  Where to go?  The only logical place was the bedroom just down the short hallway, and that was just where she headed, slamming the door behind her. 

Donovan shook his head and picked up her bag from the floor and handed it to Alex.  "She'll need this.  Try to calm her down."

"Okay," Alex answered softly.  She took Quinn's belongings and followed her to the bedroom.

Donovan's focus traveled back to the window.  The screen wasn't damaged, but it had been opened along with the window.  If Quinn was just looking to get fresh air into the room, there was no need to open the screen.  Something pricked at his senses, sending them into distrust mode.

He waited downstairs with the others until Alex emerged from the room nearly twenty minutes later.  She reported that Quinn was fine, just a bit embarrassed.  Donovan headed up the stairs and rapped on the door quietly with one knuckle.  When he received no response, he opened the door slowly and entered the room.  He found her sitting on the padded windowsill with her knees hugged to her chest, staring out over the landscape.  She had changed into a pair of tan shorts and white tank top and her damp hair had been brushed and hung loosely down her back.  It was so long when not braided or pulled up into a twist that she was nearly sitting on it.  

Quinn turned her head slowly to look at him.  He was watching her intently and she was not sure she minded his scrutiny all that much.  As much as she wanted to, she didn't think she would ever figure him out.  If it had been anyone else that she had let loose on, nearly killed, she would be in a lockup somewhere, her career in shambles.  But Donovan shook it off, his concern more for trying to get her to recognize and move past the reason behind the attack.  She released a mournful sigh and shook her head before laying her cheek on her knee and returned her gaze out the window.

"How're you doing, Quinn?" he asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Okay, I guess.  Nothing more than having the bejeezus scared out of me.  I'll live," she said, not turning to look at him.

"You ready to join the others then?"  He didn't want her hiding the rest of their time at the secluded cabin.  It wasn't like her to be timid and he didn't want her slipping into some sort of shell.

"Almost," she replied as she unfolded her body and stood.  "We need to talk."

Donovan nodded in agreement.  "I said we would, and now's as good a time as any."

"You won't like what I have to say," she commented softly, turning away from him.

"Probably not, but it's the only way to clear the air," he returned.  He moved from the bed and reached her in one long stride.  Her back was mere inches from his chest so he had no problem detecting her body's warmth.  Being close to her again made him realize that no one he had met since she had slipped from his life could affect him so easily.  He wasn't even touching her and yet his body was reacting to the heat of her skin, her very nearness.  "I'm not sure you'll like what I have to say, either," he admitted calmly.

With a brief nod of her head, Quinn turned to face him.  "Why did you leave so suddenly after we returned from Colombia?"

"You made it painfully clear that I was not welcome," he answered matter-of-factly.   "I'm not sure if it was the first slap, or the tenth, that finally sent the message to my brain."  He ran his hand over his jaw as if he could still feel the imprint of her hand on his cheek.

"I didn't give you much of a chance, did I?" she asked, not expecting or needing an answer.  Whenever he had approached her, she never gave him the time to speak.  She had done her best to shut out the memory of him, but if she fought hard enough to retrieve those moments back, she would bet she had done far worse than slap him.

"No, but I understood."

"Did you?  Did you really?"  She released a short, disheartened laugh, shaking her head.  "No, you had no clue."

"Then tell me, Quinn.  Tell me why it was so difficult for you to face the reality of what happened?"  He took her by the shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes.  "Tell me what I did that warranted total isolation."

She wanted to fade away at that moment; in his eyes she read his desperate need for the truth, the whole truth.  He wouldn't beg, he was too proud, and if she didn't find the strength to tell him, tell him everything, she knew he would leave her and never ask again.  "There's something I need from you before I say anything more."

"What is that?" he asked softly, never releasing the hold his eyes had on hers.

"Kiss me," she whispered, lifting her face to give him access.  "Just one more time.  I'm afraid after we say all that needs to be said, there will be nothing left for us."

He dipped his head slowly, acquiescing to her demand easily.  "I don't believe that, Quinn," he assured her before he took her lips in a hungry kiss.  

Quinn melted into his arms, reveling in the feel of his strong hands as they roamed her back, possessively cupping her bottom.  She drank in every ounce of strength he offered her in the heady warmth of his kiss, his embrace.  Her fingers slid into his soft raven hair and she was barely able to comprehend the reality of him wrapping her long tresses around his own fingers.  

Reluctant to break from the sensual feel of his lips and body, she knew the moment his hand covered her breast, if she did not pull away then, she never would.  What needed to be said would be put off and she had no doubt that if he made love to her once, she would go slowly out of her mind without him for the rest of her life.  It was not a life she wanted to live, so she pulled away roughly, breaking the kiss and putting several feet of distance between them.  "I'm sorry…"

"If I repulse you so much…" he spat, hurt and aggravated.  It was right, oh so right, to have her in his arms.  Why was she resisting so furiously?  His frustration was evident in more than one way, as his need was clearly noticeable by the sheer unadulterated ache in his loins.  He wanted to press forward and resume his exploration of her body, but the look of determination on Quinn's face as she tried to regain her composure stopped him from the pursuit.

"Oh hell, Donovan.  If you repulsed me, do you think I'd want your lips on me?"  She shook her head slightly as she sat on the end of the bed.  "I need to know something before we go any further.  It's…important."

He sighed his frustration, but sat calmly next to her; careful not to touch her because he wasn't sure he could keep his hands off her if given half the chance.  "What is it, Quinn?  Tell me," he demanded.

She took a deep breath and looked straight ahead, avoiding his intense stare.  She was afraid the words would not come if she looked into the fathomless depth of his dark eyes.  "I fought with so many emotions after that mission.  It wasn't just that we _willingly and knowingly_ left Troy to be murdered so heinously.  No, that was only a part of it, a large part, but not the whole enchilada."

Donovan nodded.  "I suspected as much, Quinn, but you were so hard to reach…you just wouldn't let anyone in.  Especially me."

Quinn snorted.  "You got that right.  I wouldn't let you in because _you_ were the problem.  No, listen.  You scared the crap out of me that night.  I thought you were going to break my neck," she admitted sorrowfully.  It was a side of Donovan that she had never expected to see.

"I admit I handled that badly, but I reacted with my gut.  Jesus, I was sure you would go barreling back there and get yourself killed, so I snapped.  Fear is a great motivator…and I needed you to be afraid of me at that moment."  

"Well, it worked," she commented, turning to face him.  "But still, that was only another small part of it.  Tell me something…and answer me honestly…because this was the biggest part of it."

"I will," he promised.  

She took another deep breath and released the words quickly.  "If it had been me trapped in that tree, me caught by those guerillas, me being skinned alive…would you have just left me without another glance backwards?"

As he searched her expressionless face, he realized he had been holding his breath for the last few moments when he tried to suck in more air.  She had thrown him for a loop with that question.  Would he have?  He had never given it a thought back then.  It wasn't something he had to dwell on to answer; there was no question of what he would have done.

"You see…that's the thing, isn't it?  You would have."  She stood and paced the room slowly.  "And that's what tore me up, I think, more than anything.  I wasn't sure how I felt about you, but you had become so fucking important to me…and, whoa…to know that I would have been left behind without so much as a thought…let's just say, it fed the hatred."

"I wouldn't have," Donovan insisted as he stood, taking her by the shoulders and stopping her pacing.  "I couldn't have."

"How can you say that, you big hypocrite?  You promised to be honest," she accused, struggling to free herself from his grasp.

"I can say it, Quinn…and I mean it."  His eyes locked on to hers, and her struggling stopped instantly.  "I have never, ever, thought of that scenario.  But if it had been a reality…I would have died trying to save you."

Quinn pulled free and headed for the door.  "I want to believe that, Donovan…but it's impossible.  You would have left me, just as you left Troy.  I meant little more to you than he did."

He watched as she reached for the doorknob.  "_Tá grá agam duit_," he explained softly.  He knew she understood the Irish words.  She wasn't fluent, but she knew enough to understand.  "I did then; I do now."

A harsh sob ripped from Quinn's throat as she opened the door and slipped through, quietly closing it behind her.  _Was it true?_  She needed to be alone, needed time to think.  

From inside the bedroom, Donovan watched as Quinn left the cabin from the back doorway.  She wandered aimlessly toward the swing that hung from a large branch and sat down.  She made no effort to move the swing, yet it swayed from a body wracked by tears.  It tore him to pieces watching her, but it wasn't within him to go to her.  She needed space and he respected that.  

He was also wrestling with his own thoughts.  She as much admitted that her feelings for him were what caused the rift between them.  Her imagination created a scenario so horrible that it had taken the love developing in her heart and turned it into a black hatred.  He only hoped that she could release the grip it had on her.

~*~


	9. Chapter Nine

~*~

The group occupied themselves for the better part of the evening by playing poker.  Donovan was surprised that Quinn pulled herself together and joined in.  He had to hand it to her; she was tough woman.  She smiled and laughed at all of Cody's stupid jokes, which if he was made to admit under oath, were actually amusing at times.  Although she was doing her best to hide it, when she met Donovan's eyes, he could read the pain and confusion in them.  

"I think I've had enough for one day, guys.  I'm really exhausted," Monica complained good-naturedly as she stood from the table and stretched.  "I'm gonna crawl into that oh-so-comfortable cot and get some sleep." 

"Sounds like a plan," Jake agreed.  "I can barely keep my eyes open.  I'll take the couch."

It wasn't long before the entire group had made their way to their individually assigned sleeping areas.  As Donovan ascended the stairs to his room, he noted that Quinn was sleeping by the screen door that led onto the back porch.  He sighed to himself and continued on his way, silently hoping her outlook might change with the coming of the new day.

~*~

Quinn lay on her side, staring out into the darkness.  A cool breeze wafted gently through the screen doors and windows, making the warmth of the night easy to bear.  Still, she could not sleep, although from the sound of the heavy breathing and snoring that filled the room, no one else was having that problem.  

Donovan's words haunted her as much as the feel of his hands on her skin or the warm sweetness of his kiss.  Her fingers went her lips, the memory of the kiss so fresh it was as though she could still feel the pressure of his sensual lips on hers.  

She sat up slowly and searched the dark interior of the room.  Thankfully, she found a clear path and moved soundlessly from her cot to the stairway.  She hoped Donovan wasn't a sound sleeper; there was something she needed to say that couldn't wait for morning.

~*~

He could see her clearly as she rose from her bed by the door.  He watched as she moved over to the stairs, taking great pains to walk on tiptoes so she didn't wake anyone else in the cabin.  What could she be up to?  Oh, he knew all right; he knew from the moment he had spied them in the woods together.  It was written plainly on their faces and the thought of it sickened him.  

She had now betrayed him in more ways than one.  _Sleeping with the enemy, was that not what they called it?_  It was a sad moment for him, one in which he realized he would be doing more than scaring her.  She would have to be taken care of.  Which would bring him more pleasure now?  Having Donovan watch her die or having her watch Donovan die?  Either scenario brought an evil smile to his lips as he watched her slowly ascend the darkened staircase.  _Use your time well, Quinn, my darling.  Tomorrow, tomorrow may be your last._

~*~

The faintest sound in the hallway, and the slight creak of the door opening and closing, caused Donovan to awaken from his light sleep.  He was tired, but sleep had not come easily.  His thoughts had turned often to Quinn and their conversation earlier.  He understood she found it difficult to believe him when he said he would not have left her in the jungle to die.  He only wished she could understand what he had done was done to save her life.

His eyes focused quickly in the moonlit room as he pushed himself to a sitting position in the bed.  She stood in the middle of the room, anxious and hesitant, wearing nothing more than a t-shirt that reached the middle of her thighs.  Her hair hung loose, and the desire to run his fingers through it or wrap it around him, made itself known quickly.    

"Frank," she whispered, moving to the bed and crawling up on it to sit beside him, facing him.  "I…Jesus…you really messed me up."

"I never meant to," he replied, cupping her chin tenderly.  "That's one thing I hope you _can_ believe."

She nodded, taking his hand in hers and pressing a tiny kiss to his palm.  "I'm having trouble believing you wouldn't leave me if…" she trailed off as though the thought just was too much to deal with.  "But I do believe you did what you had to do, and that you did it to save all of us.  I also know that leaving Troy behind to save us was not easy, and Sam and I only made it that much harder for you."

"I didn't want to do any of it," he agreed.  "The moment I realized what you meant to me, I should have requested a new team.  I just convinced myself I could keep my feelings hidden." 

Quinn toyed with the sheet that had pooled around Donovan's waist, revealing his bare chest.  She felt guilty and a traitor to the emotions she had nurtured for the past few years, but she could not help the feelings of desire that tingled insistently at her center.   

"I used the same rationale," she admitted.  "I should have requested to be taken off the team.  There would have been plenty of time to train a replacement."

He squeezed her hand softly.  "Could haves and should haves won't change the past.  I want to believe we can let it go."

Quinn shifted quickly, straddling his legs.  "I think I'm ready.  The other alternative is to go on without you in my life, and I _know_ I don't want to live that life anymore."

Donovan was beyond words; he needed her and could not push aside five year's worth of denying himself the woman of his desire.  He captured her lips in a demanding kiss, crushing her body to his.  His hands worked themselves slowly up her thighs to the swell of her hips, pushing the material of her shirt along with them.  Finding no barriers along the way, he raised an eyebrow and pulled away from her, breaking the kiss.  

"What?" Quinn questioned, panting heavily.  

"You're sure you want this?" he asked, running gentle fingers over the smooth skin of her buttocks.

She grinned slightly and bit her bottom lip.  "Oh that… well, I normally sleep in the nude," she explained.  "Can't run around here like that, so…"

"I'm not complaining," he replied huskily as his lips sought hers once again.  

He shifted to his knees, supporting her back as he eased her down onto the mattress.  He found the hem of her shirt again and slowly slid it upward, his eyes feasting on the sight of her as each tantalizing inch was revealed to him.  While he helped her remove the shirt completely, he could not resisting leaning down to capture one rosy, taut nipple between his lips.  As if in invitation, her back arched reflexively, straining toward him, begging for his attention.  He heard Quinn's soft moan as he brought the hardened nub into his mouth, circling it with the tip of his tongue as he suckled it greedily.  

With the shirt discarded and her arms freed, Quinn began a slow, delicate exploration of the warm, silky skin of his shoulders and back.  As her hands dipped along his lower back to glide along the swell of his buttocks, she chuckled softly when she found she had no barrier to cross.  Her hands immediately moved to either side of his face, guiding him back to her.  "Too long, " she whispered teasingly.  "I miss your kiss," she explained.

"We can't have that," he stated, covering her mouth with his.  Their tongues met in a playful tease as they satisfied the need to taste each other.  

Quinn's moan mixed with Donovan's as he pressed himself against her thigh and covered one of her breasts with his large hand.  He continued the hungry kiss as he kneaded the mound, rolling the hardened peak under his palm, stopping only to pinch it gently.

She felt his hardness throbbing against her and instinctively raked her nails down his back, cupping his tight cheeks, squeezing them none too gently.  His lips and hands were driving her slowly out of her mind.  She wriggled beneath him, her ache building so rapidly that she needed release; she needed him to fill her.  

He leaned up again, kissing her lips quickly before trailing a line of warm, moist kisses along her jaw, neck, and shoulder until he finally reached the breast he had not yet tasted.  He ran the tip of his tongue fully around her breast before sucking the hardened nipple into his mouth as his hand still worked a delicious torture on her other breast.  When she moaned his name, he reached up with his free hand to run his fingers over her soft, swollen lips and nearly came unglued when she pulled one into her mouth with her tongue and began sucking rhythmically on it.  

He lifted his head and, as he removed his finger slowly from her mouth, graced her with a lazy, sexy smile that nearly brought her to orgasm.  As he moved back up her body to offer his lips to her again, she was held mesmerized by his eyes. 

"Something wrong, Quinn?" he asked quietly, confused by the expression on her moonlit face.  

"No, everything is perfect," she answered easily.  "Your eyes…"

"Yes?" he whispered huskily.

"You have the most beautiful eyes…and now…now they're nearly black," she explained, lifting up to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip momentarily.  

He smiled softly as he gazed into her eyes.   "I was thinking the same thing, my beautiful Quinn.  Your green eyes have darkened with your passion.  I could die in them," he admitted, burying his face against her neck, nuzzling it tenderly.

"I'd rather you lived there," she whispered, hugging him softly.  

He smiled against her flesh for a moment before he resumed his downward trek along her body; pressing tiny butterfly kisses over her skin as he went.  He flicked his tongue over her navel before continuing the kisses over her soft abdomen.  He moved between her legs and cupped her bottom within his hands, raising it to a more accessible angle.  He heard just the slightest whimper of anticipation escape Quinn's lovely throat as he bent down to indulge himself with the taste of her.  

Quinn gripped the crisp white sheet in one fist and plunged the fingers of her other hand into his hair when she felt the first delicious swirl of his tongue around her womanhood.  As if with a mind of their own, her legs went over his shoulders, inviting him to do with her what he would, giving herself fully and freely.  Her head tossed from side to side as he worked his wicked magic over her, sucking and flicking his tongue over the hardened bud at her core.  When his tongue entered her again and again, it brought forth the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced, causing her to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. 

Donovan heard her soft cries and whimpers as her body quaked in his grasp.  Someday, soon he hoped, he would hear her true cries, when she did not fear anyone hearing.  He found his way back to her, traveling the same path upward, kissing and tasting each salty-sweet inch of her.  

Quinn wrapped him in her arms as they kissed deeply.  She was energized by his heat, his strength, and only desired more.  She felt his probing hardness and rose to meet it, begging his entrance.  Each of them moaned within the kiss as she gloved tightly around his hardness, pulling him deep into her, taking all of him.

He moved a hand down to cup her buttocks as she wrapped her legs firmly around his waist.  He broke the kiss and buried his face in her hair as he began slow, even thrusts, bringing moan after moan to both of their lips.  His pace increased as her soft cries did.  When she dug her fingernails deep into his buttocks, he tensed and nearly let go, but fought to hold out longer.  For five years he dreamed of loving her, and by damn, he would make sure it was good for both of them.  

Quinn felt the ache coiling tightly and was so near; so near she wanted to scream to the heavens.  She breathed heavily, her sweat mingling with his, meeting each of his thrusts in time, moving closer and closer to the place they both sought.  "_A ghrá mo chroí_, (love of my heart)," she purred silkily into his ear.  "Now, love, now," she pleaded, slapping his bottom for good measure.

Donovan growled softly as he gave her one hard thrust after another in rapid succession until she cried out against his shoulder.  He tensed and met his own painfully exquisite release when her climax took him over the edge with her.

Panting heavily, he chuckled when he felt her fingers dipping into the sweat that pooled at the base of his spine.  "You're pretty hot stuff, Doyle."

She grinned mischievously and smacked his bottom again.  "You bring out the best in me," she teased.

"Oh, God," he groaned happily, rolling off her and pulling her into his embrace.  

"It was all you, love.  He had nothing to do with it," Quinn assured him as she snuggled against his chest and splayed her palm out over it.

"And you, beautiful," he replied, kissing the top of her head softly.

"Sheesh…I hope we didn't wake the kids," she commented, laughing.

"Too late to worry about that," he stated, pulling the sheet over them.  "I'd like to fulfill one more dream tonight, if you don't mind?"

"What's that?" she asked, lifting up on one elbow to see his face.

"I want to wake in the morning with the woman I love in my arms," he explained simply.

"Quinn's eyes widened momentarily and her heart skipped a beat.  "First…that's not a good idea.  We're supposed to be on a working weekend.  Second…it takes my breath away when you say those words."

He kissed her fiercely, crushing her chest to his.  "I mean them.  As I said earlier -- _tá grá agam duit_."  Brushing the hair tenderly from her cheek he added, "I did then; I do now."

"I love you, too, Frank," she sighed.  Resting her cheek on his firm chest, she sighed softly and closed her eyes.

"Sleep well, Quinn," he whispered as he lovingly stroked her hair.  For the first time in years, he felt as if his world was spinning on its axis correctly.  

"I think I will; it's been ages since I have," she admitted, snuggling closer in spite of the warm night and their perspiration soaked bodies.

~*~

To be continued…


	10. Chapter Ten

~*~

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked gruffly, watching her attempt to untangle her body and long hair from the sheet…and him.

"It's nearly dawn," she whispered.  "Keep your voice down."

He chuckled softly.  "Don't you mean the 'butt-crack' of dawn?  And don't worry about my voice," he admonished her, pausing long enough for her to hear the bathroom door open and close.  "It's safe to say they're all up and taking bets that you're up here."

"Damn you, Donovan," she huffed in mock anger.  

"Hey, you came to me," he reminded her, grinning.  

"Oh, ho.  You aren't going to Lord that over me now, are you?" 

"Never.  So, the secret's out…why not crawl back in here and spend the day making love to me?" he suggested wickedly.

Quinn grinned as she crawled across the large bed on all fours until she reached his side.  "Get me the hell out of this godforsaken place and back to civilization and I'll be your love slave for a week," she said, nipping his chin playfully.

"Only a week?" he asked, lifting a brow expectantly.

"Let's play it by ear, huh?  We've got a lot of ground to cover."  She gently placed her palms to his cheeks and kissed him softly.  "And we'll do it together."

He nodded and hugged her tightly before allowing her to leave the bed again.  He heard her whisper a good morning to whomever she bumped into in the hall.  It was Sam.  Donovan heard Sam say he was the only one awake and if she wanted to play it on the down low, she could stay in the bathroom for a few minutes before coming downstairs.  He heard Quinn's grateful thank you followed by the bathroom door closing.  _Sam to the rescue_.  Donovan couldn't help but laugh as he buried his face in his pillow.  He had to admit, the upside to it was that neither he nor Quinn would have to face the interrogation of his team.  They could be ruthless when after information and even he sometimes had a hard time avoiding them.

~*~

"Where is everybody?" Donovan asked as he stepped through the screen door and onto the back porch.

"Jake and Alex," Cody said, pointing to his left, "went that way.  Sam, Monica, and Quinn went that way," he finished pointing to his right.

Donovan shrugged and pulled up a chair next to Cody.  "Why didn't you go?"

"Please…I'm just biding my time until we get out of humidity hell and back to the real world," he snapped sarcastically.  "People actually vacation in this crap?"

Donovan laughed.  "Some, yes.  This isn't so bad…it can be worse."

"S'ok…I'd rather not experience it."

"Understandable," he responded as he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

"Tired?" Cody asked suddenly.

"Not especially, why?"

"Just figured you would be…kinda noisy bed."

Donovan groaned and Cody was up and out of his chair, taking safe haven inside the cabin, before Donovan could even open his eyes.

~*~

"Gawd, Quinn, I can't believe you wanted to go exploring.  Haven't we walked enough in the last couple days?" Sam complained.

"Just got a lot of pent up energy that I need to get rid of," Quinn explained.  "Besides, you didn't have to come along.  Monica and I would have been fine."  

"Hey, you never know what's out here," he snapped.

"Yes, that's why we brought our little friends with us," Monica replied, tapping the Bowie knife at her hip.

"Okay, okay…you don't need a man," Sam teased.  "It's just hot and I'm cranky."

"I'll say," Quinn teased.  A booming noise shattered the quiet of the marshy area, but it was difficult to tell in which direction it came from.  "What was that?"

"Don't know.  Could be hunters," Sam answered concernedly.  "We should check it out."

"Can't tell where it came from, but hunting isn't allowed in this area, if memory serves," Quinn responded quickly.  "I'll head off toward the water.  Monica, go straight ahead and Sam…" she trailed off when Sam took off without waiting for her to finish.  "Monica, don't go too far…five, ten minutes and then head back to the cabin."

"Okay.  Be careful," she called over her shoulder.

~*~

Monica trekked for nearly ten minutes but found nothing suspicious.  As agreed she turned around and headed back to the cabin.  As she neared, she noticed Sam had also returned.  "Where's Quinn?" she called and all eyes turned in her direction.

"I thought she'd come back with you," Sam answered. 

"Why did you split up," Donovan demanded harshly.  Without waiting for an answer, he ran into the cabin, grabbed his knife and took off in the direction Monica had just come from.  

By that time, Alex and Jake were returning to the sight of Donovan running off with Cody, Sam, and Monica trailing quickly behind him.  "What's up?" Jake yelled as he and Alex caught up to them.

"Quinn's missing," Monica panted.  "We separated when we went to investigate a noise we heard."

"We heard it too," Alex acknowledged.  "Didn't find anything."

"We didn't either," Monica replied.  "But Quinn didn't return."  As they neared the area where the noise was first heard, Monica yelled, "Here!  Quinn headed off toward the water."

Donovan nodded and turned in that direction without breaking stride.  He couldn't explain it, but he knew something was wrong.  And as he neared the water's edge, he realized his sixth sense had been dead on.  Quinn's unconscious body was bound to a fallen log in the river; only her upper torso could be seen.  "Quinn!" he called frantically.  

Quinn groaned painfully as the sound of Donovan's anxious voice pierced through the veil of consciousness and brought her around.  As she awakened, she realized she was completely immobile, her arms tied behind her back and her body fixed to a log with a thick rope.  She struggled, kicking her legs and jerking her shoulders.  "What…how…"  She looked up to see Donovan and the entire group heading her way.  

Donovan stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a small splash from across the river.  His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of the ten-foot alligator that skimmed the surface of the water.  "Quinn! Stop struggling!"

"Frank! Get me out of here," she demanded, still unaware of the danger headed her way.

"Oh Jesus, Donovan," Sam cried, stopping behind him.  "We'll never get her free in time."

"Go, untie her!" He ordered and wasted no time diving into the water after the alligator.

Quinn gasped as she watched Donovan splash beneath the surface.  It was then that she discovered the danger she was in.  "No!" she screamed, realizing he was attempting to take on the reptile.  She watched in horror as he came up alongside the dark green creature and wrapped an arm over the alligator's thick-skinned, bony-plated back.  Quinn screamed when it struggled, whipping its long, rounded snout back at Frank.  She released a small sigh when it failed to make contact, because the angle was inaccessible to it.  Her relief was short-lived, however, when the 'gator executed a sudden roll, pulling Frank under the water with it.

"Someone help him!" Quinn screamed, as she listened to the others yelling Donovan's name.  By that time, Cody and Sam had reached her and were beginning to cut away at the ropes that held her.  

They watched on in continued horror as the 'gator rolled two more times, showing its light colored belly.  Donovan gasped for air futilely each time he surfaced, but there was no time to take in much before he was pulled below again.  Within moments the thrashing stopped and the water stilled, turning a deep crimson before their very eyes.  

Quinn realized she was in a full-blown crying jag, watching the color spread across the water.  He couldn't be gone; they had just found each other.  She hated herself for being so selfish, but she couldn't bear to watch any longer.  She closed her eyes as she hung her head, the tears still coming in violent sobs.

Donovan broke the surface quietly, just inches from her.  He heard the collective sighs of relief and the soft crying from Alex and Monica.  He wasn't sure, but a couple of the men might have been crying too.  "Quinn," he whispered, cupping her chin with one hand as he treaded water.  "I'm okay, beautiful."

She knew she had to be dreaming and therefore did not want to open her eyes.  But the thumb that caressed her cheek and brushed her tears away felt so real she couldn't resist.  Her eyes widened as she realized he was real.  "You…you're okay?"  She struggled against the bonds that continued to hold her; she needed to touch him so badly.  "But…the blood…" 

He smiled softly and reached behind her, slicing the ropes that bound her hands.  "The 'gator's.  After I stabbed him in the throat, he was only too happy to make a getaway."  

Although still tied to the log, her hands were finally free and she wound them around his neck, hugging him fiercely.  "I thought…I thought…"

"Shhhh…"  He sheathed his knife quickly, and grabbed hold of the log with one hand and placed a steadying arm around Quinn's waist when Sam and Cody finally worked through the ropes that held her.  "Come on, Quinn…help me get you to shore."

Quinn nodded, freeing her hold on him reluctantly.  When they reached the bank, Alex and Jake helped them out of the water.  It was Monica who spoke next.  "Quinn, did you see who did this?"  

Quinn shook her head.  "No…I was walking, passed a tree, whoever it was must have been hiding behind it…"  Her hand went to the back of her head and she flinched visibly when she touched a tender area.  "Smacked me a good one."

Pushing aside her dripping wet hair, Donovan inspected the welt on the back Quinn's head.  "Fan out in pairs, look for clues."  

"Right," Jake answered, urging the group on.  

"Are you sure you're okay," Quinn asked, pointing to the bloody welts on his forearms.

"I'm fine.  Its skin was pretty brutal and I think I swallowed half that river, but more importantly, are _you_ okay?"  He cupped her face tenderly between his hands and brushed her lips softly with his.

"Yes," she gulped unsteadily, pushing at his chest in sudden anger.  "You could have been killed!"

Donovan chuckled, realizing for the first time that she had been more worried about him than herself.  It was the opposite in his case.  "And you could have as well, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes widened.  "Oh God, Donovan.  Is this some weird funky full-circle thing?"  Her arms went about his neck and she molded her wet body to his.  "I had so much trouble believing you would have come back for me if it had been me left behind," she stammered, hugging him tightly and kissing his neck softly.  "And here you throw yourself at an alligator to save my life."

"I love you," he assured her, pulling away enough to look into her eyes.  "And I wish we were anywhere but here.  I've got to get you back to the cabin.  You need to rest and I need to contact DeWalt."

"I don't need to…DeWalt?" she asked as his words sank in.  "What does he…"  She rolled her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder.  "This was all his idea, wasn't it?"

He untangled her arms from his neck and stood, bringing her with him.  "It was and we'll talk more about that later.  Right now, I want to keep a constant guard on you."  With a nod, he acknowledged each of the team as each made their way back to him.

"I'm in no more danger than anyone else," Quinn insisted.

Donovan shook his head and took her by the arm.  "We're heading back to the cabin and waiting for the team to discuss this further."  He looked down at Quinn and favored her with a perplexed look.  "First the snake through the window…now this?  And you don't think you're a target?"

"But…"

"No, there will be no discussion," he insisted firmly.  "We'll go over what the others found after we get back to the cabin and I contact DeWalt."

~*~

To be continued…


	11. Chapter Eleven

Donovan wasted no time in getting Quinn back to the cabin.  Halfway back, she had stumbled when she became dizzy from her head wound and he carried her effortlessly the remainder of the way.  Once inside relative safety, he set her on her feet and watched her for a moment to make sure she was able to stand on her own.

"I'm fine, you big ox," she complained softly as she made a beeline for her belongings.  "I'm going to wash the smell of that river off me while you contact DeWalt."

He nodded absently as he waited somewhat impatiently for her to gather her things before they headed for the stairs.  He still didn't trust her to walk on her own and didn't want to see her falling down the stairs.  

Quinn paused just outside the bathroom door.  "And just how are you going to contact him?" she asked suddenly.

"He left me a message, as well as a Ham radio," he answered simply.  "Don't take five minutes in there, and be careful," he insisted as he cupped her chin in his large hand and brushed his lips to hers.  "I'd like to wash up, too, before the team gets back."

Quinn nodded and kissed him quickly before slipping through the door and closing it behind her.  He made his way to the bedroom closet and opened the door.  A small desk was hidden inside and the radio rested on its top.  He switched the unit on and released a harsh growl when it failed to operate.  He had tested it the previous day before he had gone to sleep, so he was certain it had been in perfect working order.  Now it would not even spark to life.

When he reached for the unit, he saw a tiny screw lying beside it.  He gingerly lifted the radio's cover and found that it came off without hesitation.  He released a defeated sigh when he discovered that several fuses as well as the transmitter had been removed.  He pulled out drawer after drawer, furiously searching for replacement parts, but found none.  There was no way to call for help.

He slammed the closet door shut and returned to stand guard at the bathroom door.  There was no safe place for them in their isolation and his mind worked furiously to decide their next step.  He knew they could not stay in the cabin and wait for pickup, which would not arrive for two more days, but he also felt traveling back on foot presented too easy a target for whoever was after them.  

Quinn opened the door to find Donovan leaning against the wall across the hallway.  "Boy, you really are in a hurry for that shower," she commented absently as she straightened her shirt over her jeans.  "Get a hold of DeWalt?"

"No," he answered shortly, taking her by the arm and leading her back downstairs.  "The radio was tampered with."

Quinn's eyes widened.  "You mean, whoever conked me on the head and left me for 'gator bait was in this cabin?"

Donovan nodded.  "The radio was working last night, I tested it.  I suppose there was plenty of time to get into the cabin and remove those parts while we were…"

Quinn plopped onto the sofa unceremoniously.  "Saving my sorry ass," she supplied gruffly, burying her face in her hands. 

Donovan crouched before her and removed her hands from her face.  "Don't think like that," he insisted.  "It won't help matters, and…" he trailed off as he gazed into her eyes.  "There's no risk too great if it means keeping you safe."

She shook her head as she wound her arms about his neck, hugging him fiercely.  "Shut up, before you make me cry," she whispered, nuzzling his neck.  "God, Frank…I close my eyes and I keep seeing that 'gator drag you under the water.  I was sure you were dead."

"Well, I'm not…"

"Thank God," she whispered, pulling away from him.  "Now what?  When were we scheduled for pick up?"

He moved to the coffee table and sat down on its hard surface.  "Not for two days.  We can either…" he trailed off as he heard commotion from outside.  "We'll decide as a group what to do next.  First, I'd like to hear what they've found."

Quinn nodded and sank back into the couch.  She was beginning to feel lightheaded again.  Sleep sounded good at that moment and she began to wonder if she had not sustained a concussion from the attack earlier.  She closed her eyes and listened to the voices surrounding her.

"Jake?" Donovan inquired, standing as his team and Sam shuffled through the doorway. 

"Whoever this is…is good at policing the area.  Best we found was a cold camp less than a mile away from the cabin," he answered.  "Footprints that went off in all directions.  We followed a couple trails, but came up empty."

Donovan ran his fingers over his mouth as his mind digested the information Jake supplied.  There were two scenarios to put before them, and, personally, he wasn't fond of either one.

"You haven't taken care of those," Monica stated, pointing to the bloody welts on Donovan's forearm.  "I'll get the first aid kit."

He shrugged, having long forgotten the wounds.  "We have an unknown assailant stalking us," he said, stating the obvious.  "Our next decision has to be unanimous."

"What do you mean," Sam asked as he sat next to Quinn.  "You okay, Quinn?"

Quinn's eyes fluttered open.  It took her eyes several seconds to focus on Sam's face.  "Yeah…tired.  Donovan, you better tell them the whole shebang."   

Donovan nodded and began a slow pace around the room.  "As much as this 'evaluation' is legit, it is a lie."  He heard the collective intake of breath from each of his team, signaling their surprise.  "I apologize for the deception, but it was under Director DeWalt's orders in his attempt to make two of his people face their past."

Sam's eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze flitted from Donovan to Quinn.  "Did you know about this?"

Quinn's forehead puckered into a confused frown as she steadied her gaze onto Sam.  "How would I?  

"It doesn't matter," Sam whispered.

"Let's focus here," Donovan admonished.  "Whoever attacked Quinn managed to destroy the only form of communication we had with the outside world.  DeWalt kept a Ham radio for emergencies and it has been tampered with."

"I'll have a look at it," Cody offered.

"It won't do any good," Donovan answered, shaking his head.  "Key components have been taken and there were no replacements to be found."

"How convenient," he snapped, leaning against the back of the couch.

"We're scheduled to be picked up in two days," Donovan continued.  "We can try to wait it out here, keeping a twenty-four hour watch…"

~*~

He listened intently as his prey decided their next step.  He had to laugh at their stupidity, but if he did that he might give his position away.  He wasn't ready for that yet, he still wished to play with them a bit longer.  He had to admit that he was enjoying the show he had staged for himself.  

It had been easy to take the parts for the radio, but as usual, Donovan had it all wrong.  He had slipped into the cabin just after all his little people had left for their walks into the wilderness.  He waited until Donovan had gone outside to talk with his little geeky team member and then tiptoed up the stairs unnoticed.  No matter how good Donovan was, no one functioned at their peak without sleep.  He was no exception.  Between Quinn's attacks both nights, whether in anger or in lust, Donovan's sleep had been deprived.  And the previous night, when Donovan was more concerned with bouncing his pretty little Quinny than sleeping, it only served to aid in bringing his awareness down a notch.  

He grinned inwardly, replaying the scene at the river over in his mind.  He had not anticipated the alligator.  No, that had been most unexpected, and most appreciated.  He had only meant another fright for the auburn haired beauty.  When Donovan, the bastard hero that he is, jumped in the river and the alligator took him for a tumble into the murky depth of the river, he had nearly creamed his jeans with delight.  The thought of that inflated big shot being gnawed upon by the alligator gave him a special happy.  Sadly, Donovan's luck had held out and he scared the reptile off.  He swore Donovan's good fortune was such that if a nuclear bomb went off next to him, like the cockroach that he was, he would survive to annoy the remainder of humanity.

He sighed as he listened to Donovan drone on and on about their next move.  He smiled thinly.  Soon, very soon, he would give them a little something to help them make their decision.

~*~

"…or we can hoof it out.  Either way, we're pretty easy targets," Donovan concluded.  He absently ran a hand through his hair and massaged the back of his neck.  He felt one hell of a headache coming on and did his best to push it aside so that he could focus on getting his people out of this situation.  

"Neither scenario sounds good to me," Jake spoke up.  "But I'd rather be a moving target than a stationary one."

"Agreed," Alex added while Monica merely nodded her head.

Donovan's gaze encompassed the room, noting each head nodded in agreement.  It was unanimous.  Just as he was about to speak, a slight ripping noise came from the front screen door as something whistled past Alex, barely missing her, and embedded itself into the wall.  

Alex gasped and jumped back.  "What the hell?!"

Donovan approached the wall quickly and removed the object, careful to keep out of the line of fire.  He held the small arrow in his hand and unwrapped the small piece of paper that was tied to it.  "Crossbow arrow," he commented offhandedly.  "And a message."

"Special delivery, no doubt," Cody quipped humorlessly.

"No doubt," Jake echoed.

"What's the note say?" Sam asked, curious as Donovan's expression darkened as he read to himself.

Donovan looked up from the paper.  "Death is calling, Donovan.  I've been watching you for a long time.  Search for me if you dare, but I know this area like the back of my hand -- pitfalls, traps, and all.  Night is the same as day for me and I can promise you that **I** won't be the one falling into the quicksand."  

When Donovan paused, Monica commented, "He's letting us know he's been watching us from the beginning."

He nodded and continued reading.  "If you think you can get your people out alive, you're welcome to try.  Run or stay; I'll get you either way."  He perched himself on the arm of the couch next to Quinn.  "That's it."

"If he wants you dead, Donovan," Sam began, "then why did he go after Quinn?"

Monica watched as he looked from Sam to Quinn and then each of his team.  "I'll answer that for you."  When he shrugged, she continued, "Because Quinn's death would mean mental suffering for Donovan."  She focused her eyes on Donovan.  "Just as each of our deaths would be significant to you…Quinn's would be even harder for you to handle, wouldn't it?"

Donovan broke Monica's gaze and looked down to lock eyes with Quinn.  Her love for him shone brightly in their green depths.  He nodded briefly, acknowledging her feelings and silently expressing the extent of his own.  "Yes."  So strangled with the emotions he struggled to keep under control, his voice was barely audible.  "But the bottom line is that I want to get us all out of this."

Silence enveloped the room as each turned their thoughts inwards as they did their best to work out a plan to escape.  It was several minutes later before anyone broke the uneasy quiet between them.

"There is a chance, it's slim, but if we can make it, we wouldn't have to travel on foot," Quinn spoke up suddenly.

"What are you talking about, Quinn?" Donovan asked, eyeing her curiously.

She took a deep breath and pushed off the couch and began pacing the room.  His 'stay away from the windows and doors' caused her to change direction and remain stationary in the middle of the room.  Her mind played out the reactions her suggestion would bring forth and she readied herself for the onslaught.  "If we can make it to the river, not quite two miles south of here, DeWalt has a small motorboat housed there."

Donovan did his best to hide his shock, but the others did not even try.  Collective gasps and shocked "What" mingled with looks of complete distrust and worry.  "How do you know this?" he asked calmly, completely hiding the confusion he felt.

"I've been here before," she answered truthfully.  When Donovan made to speak again, she cut him off by raising her hand.  "I know I should have said something from the beginning, but I wasn't really all that comfortable telling you _anything_, because I thought you were assigned to pass final judgment on me and Sam and hand us our walking papers.  Then it didn't really seem to matter if you knew or not...and I didn't want to spoil things."

"Spoil things," he echoed, completely thrown.  "What else, Quinn?"

"I needed some down time, serious by myself, take-no-calls time and when I approached DeWalt, he sent me here.  I was rather shocked when I realized where we were headed on this little exercise, but I figured he had his reasons," she explained.  "And that's why I know about the boathouse.  I used it many times during the two months I spent here."

"This is where you disappeared to that time?" Sam asked curiously.

"How convenient is that?" Jake snarled, completely taken aback and suspicious of her motives.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she barked at him.  She was fuming at the realization that he suspected she was behind things.  "Look, I didn't do this…whatever _this_ is!  I sure as hell didn't cozy up with that snake willingly!  And _please_ explain how I knocked myself out and tied myself to that log in the river."

"Jake, really…" Alex whispered.

Jake made a move toward her, but was stopped when Donovan stepped between them.  "No one thinks you're behind this, Quinn," he stated matter-of-factly.  "Your admission was just unexpected."  

Quinn huffed and moved away from them to sit by herself.  She knew Donovan was angry, his eyes had changed to ebony, giving that fact away.  She really had meant to tell him, she just hadn't had the chance before all hell broke loose.  

"Well, I just think it rather convenient that the only mode of communication was taken out and she's been here before and knows the layout of this land, too," he explained.

Quinn leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands.  "I didn't mess with the radio…I want to get out of here as much as the rest of you do."

"I suggest we focus on that," Donovan inserted.  "If we attempt to make the trip to the boathouse, we need to be very cautious."

"Very," Quinn agreed, standing.  "And I suggest we book it now, while there's still daylight.  We don't know what traps this guy has laid for us and we'll play hell trying to look out for them in the dark, as well as avoid quicksand and anything else Mother Nature throws at us."

"Good point," Donovan concurred.  "Let's go.  Grab a canteen and fill it; leave the rest," he ordered sharply.

~*~

To be continued…


	12. Chapter 12

While on the trail, each person kept a sharp lookout for anything that might remotely be a trap of any kind.  Donovan took the lead and made the best time he could while still being cautious.  He was focusing his mind on getting the group out as a whole, so each time a certain individual would break his train of thought, he forced himself to push her aside.  

He hated himself for it; he knew she was hurting, but at the moment his priority had to be the entire team.  He had been tempted to ask her what else she was hiding from him, but from the look of hurt that was clearly reflected in her eyes from Jake's accusation, he had known she was not hiding anything.  

He still had no idea who was out to get him or his team.  It could be any number of individuals from A to Z that the team had managed to take down under his command.  It was even more of a possibility that it stemmed from his less than pristine missions in the CIA.

The paired agents kept in close proximity to Donovan and Quinn and Sam brought up the rear.  Giving her side of the path a good once over, Quinn was startled when Sam leaned in and whispered to her.

"See how easily he turns on you?  He thinks you're behind this."

Quinn frowned and shook her head.  "No he doesn't."

"Sure he does.  He didn't defend you at all," Sam insisted.

"Neither did you, if I recall," she snapped back.  "Shut up, Sam."

He placed a comforting arm around her shoulder as they walked.  "Look, just watch your back, Quinny," he whispered.

Quinn nearly tripped over her feet at the use of the nickname she had not heard in many years.  "Please don't call me that, Sam," she asked, staring him in the face

"Sorry," he stammered.  "I still think of you that way from time to time."

"It's okay, just don't do it again, please," she pleaded, turning her attention from him to their surroundings.  "We've lost sight of the others," she informed him.  "We need…"

"Don't worry," he answered.  "We'll catch up quick.  There's something I want to show you…it's right over here," he insisted.

Quinn shook her head and stepped back from him, but his hand shot out quickly, grasping her by the forearm.  "Sam…"

"Just over here, Quinny…"

"Sam, please," she continued as she pulled against his grip while he dragged her forward.  She opened her mouth to yell for Donovan, but was stopped when Sam pulled her arm roughly behind her back and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Scream for him and he dies that much sooner," he threatened.  "Do you understand, Quinny?"  He pulled his hand away when she nodded.

"Stop calling me that, you bastard!"

"Why…you used to like it," he stated blankly.  "Before _him_, before you left me for him."

"What in the hell are you talking about, Sam?  You never called me Quinny…that was…ohmygod," she trailed off when she saw the unadulterated hatred that was no longer hidden in Sam's eyes.  "Troy…he was the only one who called me that."

"So, you remember me, then?  I was beginning to think you had forgotten…what with giving yourself to the enemy and all," he accused hatefully.  "How could you?  You're nothing more than a whore, Quinny."

She jerked her arm in a futile attempt to release it from Sam's grip.  "Sam, stop this…please," she pleaded.  

"We're here," he announced jubilantly.  "You can call for him now, if you wish.  I won't push you in until he can watch with his own eyes."

Looking down, she saw that she was standing near the edge of a pit that was approximately five feet deep.  At the bottom of the pit, a dozen or more sharply pointed stakes had been pounded into the earth.  

"Scream for him," he ordered through clenched teeth.  "Scream for your lover.  I want him to watch you die."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head.  "I won't help you.  Kill me…go ahead, but I won't help you hurt him."

"You stupid bitch," he snarled.  "All that time, pretending that he was the enemy, when all along you wanted him.  It's disgusting."

She turned, losing her footing momentarily and cried out as Sam pulled her back from the edge.  

Donovan stopped in his tracks when he heard the faint cry from behind them.  Turning, he discovered he was missing two agents.  "Damn it!  When was the last time you saw Sam and Quinn?"

"Just a few minutes ago," Cody answered.  "They were right behind us."

  
"Backtrack.  Let's find them," Donovan insisted, taking off at a dead run.  It didn't take long to come upon the struggling agents.  Quinn's frightened, but insistent voice was heard well in advance.

"I was wrong, Sam…_wrong!_  Can you understand that?  I did not want to admit my part in Troy's death; it was easier to blame Donovan and mask my feelings in hatred!"

"Stop lying," Sam growled hatefully.  "You planned it in advance with Donovan…you wanted to leave me there.  But I'm back…and now…you'll pay."

Quinn continued to struggle against his grip.  "Back?  Back…oh Jesus, Sam.  What's happened to you?"

"Get it right, just once before you die, Quinny," he insisted, twisting her arm and turning her to see the arrival of Donovan and his team.  "Tell them all who was behind this.  Tell them who you betrayed."

Her eyes locked onto Donovan's.  "Troy.  Troy Marchant," she stated dejectedly.  "He thinks he's Troy, Frank."

Donovan stepped forward when Sam pushed Quinn closer to the pit's edge.  His stomach churned at the sight of the exposed stakes.  She would never survive a fall into them.  "Don't do it, Troy," he said, playing Sam's mental game.  "If you want revenge, I'm right here."

"You would like that wouldn't you, Donovan," Sam answered smartly.  "Don't think so, bud.  If you want it, it would be in my interest to do the opposite."

"How can you do this?" Quinn spat, kicking out blindly as Sam pulled her back against him, holding her tightly.  

"I don't answer to you," he retorted, his eyes following the movements of the others closely.  Soon they would overtake him; he would have to finish this quickly and it saddened him to know he would only have time to take one of the betrayers.  "It's almost time, Quinny.  Any last words?"

Quinn stilled and stopped her struggles.  Again her eyes found Donovan's.  "_Tá grá agam duit,_" she said proudly. 

"Answer her, Donovan!" Sam demanded.

Donovan took a step closer.  Although his eyes never left Quinn's, he knew the members of his team were almost in reach of Sam.  It would take more than one of them to subdue him.  Donovan prayed that Quinn would not be harmed in the struggle.  "I love you, too, beautiful," he answered with a calmness he most decidedly did not feel.

"Very touching," Sam ground out through clenched teeth.  "Time to go, Quinny."  He laughed harshly as he loosened his grip on her long enough to give her a forceful shove.  

Quinn turned sharply as soon as he let her out of his grip.  She latched firmly onto the front of his shirt when he pushed her.  The force of her turn combined with his movements, caused them to spin, sending Sam into the pit backwards.  He released a gurgled cry as he landed on the stakes.  

Donovan called out Quinn's name as she was pulled over with Sam.  He ran toward the edge all the while hearing her painful cry as she landed.  He pulled up short of the edge when his ears were met with silence.  He closed his eyes momentarily before looking over the edge.  He felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought of the sight he would behold.  He couldn't bear losing her, but, there he was, about to look upon her death.

"Damn it! We were almost to him," Cody cried, dropping to his knees, unable to look over the edge.  Monica and Alex joined him while Jake edged closer to the pit.

Donovan bit back the tears and anger as he lowered himself carefully into the pit.  Blood soaked the ground at his feet and it took all he had in him to keep from vomiting.  He silently damned DeWalt for putting him up to this weekend excursion.  He would rather have lived a thousand unfulfilled lives with the knowledge that Quinn was alive, than one lonely, horrible existence without her in the world.  

He looked down at her prone form.  She had landed face down on top of Sam.  Her long hair blanketed her face, shoulders, and back.  He kneeled down, mindful of the protruding stakes and brushed her hair from her face.  When that slight action elicited a tortured moan from the seemingly lifeless body, he nearly jumped out of his skin.  "Quinn?" he whispered, not quite daring to believe she was alive.

"Oh God, Frank," she cried softly upon opening her eyes and seeing his face.  "It hurts…"

"Shhh…don't talk," he urged while moving her hair away.  A lump formed in his throat at the sight of the stake that had missed impaling her throat by less than an inch.  Getting a better look at the situation, he could see where a stake had entered her left shoulder.  A second stake had barely pierced her right thigh.  She was bleeding profusely, but it appeared as though no vital organs had been hit.  Landing directly on top of Sam had been the only thing that saved her.  

"Jake, Cody…get down here," he yelled forcefully.  "Quinn's alive.  We've got to get the bleeding stopped."

He leaned down and without putting any pressure whatsoever on her, placed a feather light kiss on her temple.  "Stay strong, Quinn.  Moving you is going to hurt like a bitch, but you've got to stay still for us.  Can you do that?"

"I can try," she responded shakily.  "Is Sam…Sam…"

"Yes, Quinn.  I'm sorry…" he whispered as his gaze went Sam.  He reached over and closed the man's lifeless eyes.  He felt like the lowest form of life, not really giving Sam much thought; his only concern was for Quinn.  His heart was doing somersaults because she was alive, but his mind was screaming at him that he needed to get her medical attention…and fast! 

"Not your fault," she groaned painfully.  

"Cody, Jake…position yourselves as best as you can to lift her straight off the stakes," he ordered, as he stepped gingerly around the stakes to position himself by her head and shoulders.  He held her by the upper arms while Cody placed his arms under her stomach and Jake under her legs.  "On three," Donovan ordered, receiving a nod from each man.  "One…two…_three_!"

Quinn released a loud scream as she was lifted upward and freed from the stakes.  No sooner had she been moved away from the stakes than she collapsed unconscious into Donovan's arms.  Monica and Alex hurried to their aid, helping them lift Quinn from the pit and to safety.  

"Pressure bandages from the first aid kit…" Monica yelled fumbling through the few things she had managed to shove into a backpack before they had left the cabin in such haste.

"Thank you, Monica," Donovan said, after she was finished tending to Quinn's wounds.  "Now, let's find that boat and get her to the hospital," he said as he lifted Quinn into his arms.

"We still need to be careful," Jake stated, as they resumed their trek to find the boathouse.  "No telling what traps are out here that we don't know about."

"You're right, Jake," Donovan acknowledged, shifting Quinn slightly in his arms.  Inwardly, he grimaced.  He could see she was still bleeding badly.  They needed to get her to safety quickly.  

Fifteen minutes and a blood-soaked shirt later, Donovan spotted the boathouse.  "Break it down," Donovan ordered, seeing the large padlock on the doors. 

Jake nodded and proceeded to kick the door in after a few tries.  

"I'll do the driving!" Alex yelled, hopping into the boat.  

"Alex, do you know where you're going?" Cody asked as she started the engine.

"Well, south sounds like a plan," she answered.

"Yes, head south," Donovan ordered.  "And no screwing around.  The bleeding hasn't stopped in Quinn's thigh.  I'm worried the stake hit an artery," he informed them as he settled in the back of the boat and cradled her on his lap.  As he looked into her unconscious face, he noticed how pale she was and her skin was becoming cold and clammy.  "Jake, check the compartments, look for a blanket."

As Jake, Monica, and Cody scoured the boat looking for something to cover Quinn with, Alex sped them along the river heading toward civilization.  After finding a thin blanket in one of the compartments, Jake switched on the boat's radio and called for help.  Reaching the local police, he was informed that they should encounter a public landing within fifteen minutes and the police would be waiting for them along with an ambulance to take Quinn to the hospital.

Donovan saw the landing come into view.  The flashing lights of the police vehicles and ambulance were easy to see in the distance.  He shifted Quinn slightly to prepare moving her from the boat onto land and heard her weak groan.  

"We're almost there, beautiful.  Hang on," he urged, looking into her barely alert eyes.

"Cold…so cold," she whispered, shuddering violently.  

He held her tightly and kissed her temple softly as Alex pulled the boat alongside the dock.  He watched as several men ran toward them, readying themselves to help transport Quinn to the ambulance.  "Stay strong, Quinn.  Don't leave me," he whispered into her ear.  "I can't lose you again."

"I love you," was the last thing he heard before she slipped back into unconsciousness and was taken from his arms and hurried to the ambulance.  

~*~

Epilogue to follow…


	13. Epilogue

~*~

"Hey, Boss," Cody's voice called clearly through his desk phone's intercom.  He glanced down at his watch and shook his head.  _Right on time, Cody._  For two months now, every night that they were not working on a case, they had been going through the same ritual.  One of his team members would call up and invite him out for drinks.  

"We're heading to O'Malley's for a drink…want to join us?"

Donovan rested his elbow on the desk and leaned slightly toward the phone.  If he said 'yes' he would probably cause Cody to have a heart attack, but, no, each night his answer was the same.  "Thank you, no…I have a mountain of paperwork to finish."

"Okay, Boss."

The warehouse door closed, signaling his team's departure.  Donovan sat back in his chair and his eyes closed reflexively.  Going out for a drink would not erase the ache of tortured loneliness that haunted his soul.  He missed Quinn; he would not deny that if any member of his team approached him.  He knew they would never do that.  Even after witnessing the admission of his feelings for her, only Monica had dared mention it.  He had wanted to scream to the heavens that he wanted to disappear, but instead he had thanked her for her concern and insisted that work was the only thing that would get him past it. 

He reached for the report DeWalt sent; it had arrived nearly a week after Quinn had been taken from him.  It basically said that a cleanup crew had 'sanitized' the area.  A clean slate; nothing happened. No funeral.  He tossed the folder back onto the desk with a growl.  It sickened him.  He had been a part of it from the beginning, had been the key component in the breaking of someone's mind.  It had taken years to get them to that point, but once they had reached their limit, the stronger part of their minds had won out.

He groaned and clutched the arms of his chair in frustration.  More than anything, he missed Quinn's touch, the sound of her voice, and her amazing green eyes that could not hide a thing from him no matter how hard she tried.  If he imagined it hard enough, he could still feel her hands touching his face tenderly or the sensual press of her lips against his.  

"Kiss me back," came the soft plea.

Donovan's eyes flew open.  Was his imagination taking over?  Was he losing his mind?  If he was, he really didn't care.  It was the most beautiful figment of his imagination he had ever witnessed.  

Smiling, she drew back from him slowly, watching the look of confusion and surprise grace his handsome face.  "Say something," she urged.

Hesitantly he stood and reached for her, grasping her firmly as though afraid his hand would pass through her like the apparition she had to be.  When his fingers surrounded solid flesh, he pulled her to him roughly, kissing her deeply and thoroughly.  

"Mmm…" Quinn murmured when the kiss broke.  "Say that again," she whispered.  Her lips found his again as her hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck.

"Oh, Jesus," he exclaimed breathily when they drew apart.  The kiss had ended, but his hands roamed her back and buttocks as though they were still not quite convinced she was really there.  "I thought I'd never see you again."

"That was my line," she teased, caressing his cheek tenderly.  "I missed you, Donovan, and I cussed DeWalt daily for not letting me see you after I was taken away in that ambulance."

Frank chuckled deeply.  "I believe I did a little more than cuss him.  I'm surprised I still have a job."

Quinn laughed and shook him by the shoulders playfully.  "That was a damn good black eye he sported for a while.  I'm right proud of you."

"I wanted to see you," he reasoned, shrugging.  "I don't like being told 'no'."  

"I was grateful that he at least told me you were asking about me.  He said he gave you weekly reports?" 

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  "Yes.  I wanted to be there with you, but he insisted the shrinks thought it best that you have no outside contact while they worked with you.  So, tell me…"

Quinn looked into his dark eyes and nodded.  "I'm okay, really.  I won't lie, I'll be in therapy for the rest of my life."  She winked at him.  "Just kidding, but I have a long way to go.  And…I really miss Sam."  

He brushed a tear away that slid down her cheek and pulled her back into his embrace.  "I know, beautiful."  His hand went to her hair and was stopped in its mission by the thick clip that held it twisted at the back of her head.  Deciding it was an obstacle he could do without, he removed the clip and tenderly ran his fingers through her long tresses.  "I wanted to pay my respects, but…"

"I know.  That was one thing DeWalt caved on and I was allowed to visit his grave.  He promised me that the incident would never make it into Sam's file."  She sighed heavily and rested her cheek against his firm chest.  "Although he said you and your team had the final say on that."

"We had no problems with that," Donovan replied softly.  The only part of it that he had wanted answers to was the crossbow.  DeWalt had told him, off the record, that Sam had it rigged with a remote trigger.  No manner of explanation could make the situation okay for anyone involved, but the team had agreed unanimously that for the sake of Sam's family, they would not press the issue.

When Quinn lifted her head to look in his face, only one thing popped into his mind and he had to ask.  "You sought me out after facing your demons, Quinn…"

She nodded.  "Yes."

"Does that mean…"

Again she nodded.  "We've been over most of this while at the cabin.  I never stopped loving you, Frank.  Never.  I just had no way of dealing with my feelings other than blaming you.  I'm so sorry for that."

"No apologies, please," he requested softly before caressing her lips with his.  

"If you insist," she said, smiling playfully.  "Now what?  Hey…we could catch up with your team and go out for drinks…"

His eyebrow shot up in astonishment.  He wondered absently how long she had been downstairs before she came to him.  It really didn't matter, did it?  The important thing was that she _did _come to him.  He couldn't explain why, but he had the gnawing feeling that after the CIA 'psychiatrists' were through with her, she would have nothing left for him.  "I have a better idea," he insisted, turning off his computer.  

"Oh?"  Quinn smiled as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.  His warm breath fanned her cheek as he spoke, sending shivers over her entire body.  "It's like that is it?" she teased.  He merely nodded his response as he took her hand and led her down the stairs.  "Okay, but you better feed me in the morning."

He winked and grinned mischievously.  "Any time, any place, beautiful."  

Five years ago his actions had shattered an image she held of him.  Five years later, he had managed to do it again.  _Thankfully._

~finis~

**A/N:**  Thanks so much to everyone who left me feedback here, through email, or at the FLMB or the WOD boards.  I truly appreciate it and the time you took out of your lives to read this little tale.  Special thanks to Serena, Marie, and Cara.   Take care everyone.


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